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In visible 



A Novel 


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Invisible IVings 


By 

Mary Geary Grant 



Moffat, Yard & Company 
Publishers New York 


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COPYRIGHT, I923, BY 
MOFFAT, YARD & CO. 


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PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 

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To 

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For you who believed in Invisible wings 
And taught me to love the intangible things , 

In lonely hours , I’ve found and fashioned Dory; 
And traced for you a little play-girl’s story , 

A painted girl;- yet rouge, powder, and kohl 
Hide not the azure radiance of her soul! 

Mart 



INVISIBLE WINGS 



CHAPTER I 

I N five minutes the silver bells would ring the hour. 
A chaplain would appear on the altar steps and 
he would read the service as was the custom in 
the Seminary on Christmas Eve. Now the chapel 
was profoundly silent. Silent were the girls whose 
shrouded heads were seen dimly behind the large 
grate which separated them from the world. 

Of the students who remained during Christmas 
vacation two sat with drowsy eyes in the first pew. 
One, Zoe Sand, a weird, dark-haired girl of seven¬ 
teen, was conscious only of the fact that she was very 
sleepy, and that the incense and candle light made her 
more so. But she smiled encouragement to her com¬ 
panion, Doreen O’Moore, who was to sing a solo. 

Doreen stood tall and slender at the rail, her shin¬ 
ing eyes wide and her soul alive to the beauty of her 
surroundings, and the sanctity of the moment. 

She drank in the wonder of the altar which was set 
like a jewel on the dark green carpeted steps. It was 
covered with golden brocade. Innumerable candles 


2 INVISIBLE WINGS 

formed a design of soft yellow lights leading to the 
tabernacle. 

Lilies leaned in their mystic beauty against the 
stained glass windows at either side of the altar. And 
around the tabernacle gardenias breathed forth all 
their life in waves of intense perfume. 

A clarion-like bell struck the cold December air, 
and while it was vibrating all the other bells in the 
world joined in, vying with each other to play the 
most exalted harmony. From the choir came Doreen 
O’Moore’s voice — very low at first with deep notes, 
then a little clearer until it soared in tremulous ecstasy 
out into the chapel. It went to each heart, folding it 
tenderly, and like the spirit of music it lifted each 
soul to the presence of God. Then the voice grew 
fainter, passed, yet lingered like the scent of vanished 
roses. The Directress looked approvingly up into 
the choir, and her face became very grave, for she 
saw that Doreen had grown into womanhood. 

After Christmas salutation, The Dean detained The 
Directress, — “I see that little Doreen O’Moore is 
quite a beauty,” she said. 

“ Yes, and she has been with us so many years and 
is leaving at the end of this term.” 

“ Ah, yes — ” a smile lightened up the sad old eyes 
— “ the bud has blossomed over-night,” she whispered, 
and then sighed. “ Ah, Sister, I must give less time 
to science and more to the children in the future, but 
I am getting old — even now I do not quite remember 
about Dory.” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


3 

“ She was to have left us last June,” said Sister 
Sebastian. 

The thin mouth of the Superior contracted into a 
line beneath the sharp aquiline nose, and one eyebrow 
climbed her high finely wrinkled forehead as she 
listened. She was one of those people who balance 
their thoughts on their eyebrows. 

“ She wished to make her living by singing in public 
and we feared the temptation which would come her 
way.” 

“ Ah,” sighed The Directress, nodding her head 
sadly. “ In what profession would a girl of that 
beauty be safe? Will she not always remain with us, 
Sister? ” 

“ I fear the wings are impatient to fly,” replied 
Sister Sebastian. 

Again the doubtful eyebrow climbed the forehead. 

“ But, I feel she is meant for some great work in 
the world.” 

“ We will pray,” said the soft, monotonous voice of 
the old woman. “ We must pray. Send the child to 
me tomorrow after Benediction. Good night, Sister.” 

Sister Sebastian tiptoed out of the room, and went 
upstairs to the dormitory. Obeying an impulse, she 
stopped at Doreen’s cot. 

“ Good night, dear,” she whispered, “ And thank 
you for the beautiful solo, it was well sung.” 

The girl flung her arms around the nun and kissed 
her on both cheeks but Sister Sebastian loosened one 
fluttering hand and held it quietly in both her own, 


4 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


as she said, “ My dear child, we shall miss you so — 
and be so anxious about your welfare. Remember 
I have seen the tender little wings of your womanhood 
sprout and grow — I have helped train each little 
feather — ” 

Suddenly Doreen tautened and sat up; her brown 
eyes flashed like fireflies in the dim light of the 
dormitory. 

“ They have given me no strong wings here! ” she 
cried. 

The nun caught both hands of the temperamental 
girl as Doreen struggled for articulation. In some 
strange way she divined the sense of unconstructive 
education — and she had devoted ten years — the 
most formative of her life from the eighth to the 
eighteenth year of her age to school and at this point 
she held nothing but a smattering of all — a mental 
possession of none. 

“ Child, child,” pleaded the nun, “ remember God 
has been good. He has given you beauty, a sweet 
voice — ” 

“ A voice! ” echoed Doreen. “ But it’s not trained. 
I have nothing to market — and practically no 
money — ” 

“ But we — we beg you to stay here,” pleaded Sister 
Sebastian. 

“ I have no vocation for religion,” responded the 
girl. 

Sister Sebastian vainly sought to justify the stereo¬ 
typed form of modern school routine. “ Dory, you 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


5 


have always appeared to love your studies — as well 
as your play and you have always done well in your 
music lessons, your spelling, algebra, and you were 
at the head of your class in history! ” 

“ Yes, but it is all diffused. I have wasted the ten 
most formative years of my life. Personally, as you 
know, I have always wanted to become a musician. 
All my studies should have been directed with that 
end in view. Every girl in this school had an inclina¬ 
tion, if not a talent that showed itself when she was 
about ten. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if each were 
given a decent chance in life by having something to 
offer, a profession, a trade, something, anything 
tangible! ” 

Sister Sebastian’s gaze penetrated the walls of the 
seminary to a more Utopian world where manifested 
inclinations, or their comparative state, talent, and the 
rare superlative state, genius, would be gently trained, 
each according to its species as the fragile vine can be 
led by a human hand to become a thing of protection 
and beauty and usefulness. But she dared not express 
her acquiescence to her pupil. 

After a moment of silence Dory begged forgiveness 
for her impulsive complaint, and the nun blessed her 
before leaving. But Sister Sebastian was strangely 
troubled as she went to her cell that night and re¬ 
mained on her knees longer than usual. 


CHAPTER II 


I T was Christmas afternoon in the Seminary. The 
recreation room — a very long, very bare room 
with spotless highly-polished floors and benches. 
Doreen and Zoe sat with Sister Sebastian and the 
three talked of various uninteresting things. 

There was the customary silence when the bells rang 
the Angelus in Puccini-like melody. The young 
teacher studied Zoe Sand’s pretty face. 

Zoe was very dark. Yet her hair was not black, 
but a tawny brown that branched out in golden threads 
at the temples. It was coiled up with a pretty move¬ 
ment to the back of her head. She wore the simple 
black uniform of the convent, but her waist as always 
was bound in tightly with a ribbon, tied with that 
rakish bow she was known for and secretly proud of. 
The spotless white collar showed a pretty, rather 
brown neck which had a charming bend at the back 
and a strong line in front that melted into a full 
dimpled chin. The little nose was straight and very 
fine with dents back of the delicate nostrils that gave 
her face a sort of pretty emphasis, but not yet could 
you tell what was emphasized, and the mouth had 
nothing of this precision and character; it was red as 
a flower of youth, and wide and rather formless. 

6 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


7 


“ Your teeth are chiseled to an impeccable even¬ 
ness,” smiled Sister Sebastian, as the Angelus ceased, 
and Zoe smiled up at her. “ And you have eyes like 
a Chinese girl, they are prettily curved up at the 
corners,” the instructor went on as if amused with 
Zoe’s interest in hearing herself described. 

“ But I haven’t hands like a Chinese girl,” pouted 
Zoe. “ Sister, just look at them! ” 

For though Zoe was quite tall and thin her hands 
were plumb and short with stubby fingers, but she had 
given most careful attention to pointing and training 
'the square, pink nails. 

“ I see you are getting ready for social experiences,” 
said the Sister, smiling at the high polish on those 
nails, and then turning to Dory, “ Read me the invita¬ 
tion from Mrs. Sand, dear.” 

Promptly a delicate pink note was produced from 
Dory’s skirt pocket, tenderly smoothed out, and 
putting her arm around Zoe, she began: 

“ Dearest Zoe: 

“ I have just decided to accompany your uncle when 
he goes abroad, for a year, — but I cannot leave you 
here in the apartment alone. I am not very strong and 
it is absolutely necessary that I go, and as you are 
now a young lady, dearie, you do not really need me 
to take care of you. Can you not persuade this be¬ 
loved chum of yours, Dory O’Moore, to come and 
stay here with you? Old nurse Emma will take good 
care of you both during my absence. Your little 


8 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


friend might give music lessons — if she wished — 
that would start her for next year when she might 
take a studio. 

“ Write her answer at once — that I may make 
my arrangements. When you arrive, your uncle and 
I are going to give you a present of a nice fur coat. 
Love from 

“ Mother.” 

Dory read in an oratorical style that gave due 
importance to this screed, and finishing she closed 
her eyes and hugged her knees with quivering delight. 
“ And the end of the story is,” said she, “ that Zoe 
did not have a hard time in persuading her friend to 
accept.” 

Well, it really is very nice,” said Sister Sebastian. 
Then she gazed for a moment at the girl’s lovely face 
and for some strange reason, felt unhappy. Excusing 
herself, and holding her arms beneath the hanging 
black sleeves, she walked slowly away towards the 
chapel. 

Once out of sight, Sister Sebastian heaved a sigh. 
Her heavy eyelids dropped, and she paused in the 
vestry amidst all the altar flowers, and began to think. 

She thought of this girl — of Dory O’Moore, 
scarcely nineteen years of age — thought of her little 
flower-like face, her small Greek head with the heavy 
autumn brown hair and her curved mouth that seemed 
moulded by tenderness itself — and the eyes. Sister 
Sebastian looked vaguely into the flowers. “ Dory’s 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


9 


eyes are darker than any flowers one ever sees — 
except purple irises shaded by the great trees after 
sunset.” She thought of an unconscious way Dory 
had of laying her long slender hands upon her childish 
breast, a gesture wistful — alluring. Sister Sebastian 
turned and looked out of the barred window. She 
seemed to hear the flute-like voice soaring in the 
chapel. She saw Dory’s face and the wonderful way 
it was transformed into something almost supernatural 
with the ecstasy of music. “ Her voice is like a violin 
with a human heart,” thought Sister Sebastian, 
“ — but to earn her living by it? ” There was no 
possibility of opera. The voice was not big enough. 
Comic opera? Concert? She only knew the road 
would be hard for this child to travel and tears welled 
up in her throat. For when she had been very young 
— but as the memory came back, she turned quite 
pale and passed into the chapel to pray. 

In the library of a New York apartment on Madison 
Avenue, Mrs. Sand stared at Harry Balster as she 
smoked a cigarette and Harry stared at Bella as he 
smoked a cigar. 

“ Well,” said he, “ certainly seems funny — you 
being the mother of young lady! ” 

Bella not only looked guilty, she felt like a criminal! 
Even in the sunlight a line could not be detected in 
her face, and her figure was slender and lithe as a 
young boy’s. She tried to laugh lightly now as she 


10 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


said, “ Yes, — yes, it seems impossible my baby is 
eighteen — a — quite a — debutante! ” 

Bella raised her trained eyebrows and vainly tried 
to look unconcerned. She added — “ Heigho — dear 
me — to think if her father were alive now, Zoe would 
be a ‘ Debbie ’ in the very best set this year! ” 

Harry took an especially deliberate puff of his cigar, 
and responded, “ Well, since he hasn’t been on the 
scene for fifteen years to my knowledge, the set of 
hams she’ll meet around here will be adequate to start 
her in her mother’s footsteps. Your parlor snakes 
will think you’ve been holding back on them when they 
see your Baby Zoe! n 

Mrs. Sand did not exactly answer that, but suavely 
remarked, “ They will not only see Zoe, but she is 
going to bring her best friend with her, — a charming 
girl. You remember Dory O’Moore? ” 

This high “ company manner ” could usually be 
counted on to a little awe Harry and Mrs. Sand did 
not want too much frankness just now. 

Harry's answering grunt was not exactly awed this 
time, but at least he was enough quelled to drop a 
discussion that might have led him into tasteless 
arithmetic as to Zoe’s mother’s age. 


CHAPTER III 


NEXT DAY 

S UNSET light was streaming through the windows 
of the bare recreation room. The girls were all 
playing, as the clock struck five and Dory 
nudged her friend’s arm and whispered: 

“ I’ve got to go and see The Directress; I am to be 
in the office at five minutes past five.” The Reverend 
Mother received only on rare and important occasions. 
So Zoe was immediately interested. 

“ Whatever do you suppose this is for,” inquired 
Zoe. 

“ Oh, I suppose just to say good-bye and give me 
my money. Sister Sebastian said I had $500.00, you 
know.” 

“Oooh! ” breathed Zoe in ecstasy. “ You can 
spend it all on clothes.” 

“ And perfume,” added Dory breathlessly as they 
both began running to the door. “ Violet perfume — 
such as you had on your handkerchief. I’ll put it on 
my hair — so it will be the last thing I’ll smell at night 
before going to sleep.” 

“ Oh, I like Eastern perfume — the kind that 
Mother has,” said Zoe, as they ran up the long hall 
towards the monastery. “ They make you nearly 
faint they’re so wonderful. Men love that kind,” she 
whispered mysteriously. “ They say — ” 


12 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ Is my hair neat? ” demanded Dory abruptly as 
they stood outside the gigantic Gothic door of the 
office. 

Zoe brushed it a little with her hand, kissed her and 
tiptoed away. 

Trembling with excitement of the unknown, Dory 
knocked and the unfamiliar old voice said, “ Come in.” 

The Directress sat immobily, the huge Gothic desk 
surrounding her, her broad back against the dark wall. 
Her colorless eyes were unnaturally large and her 
tight head band seemed to draw them painfully up. 
A large rheumatically bent finger pointed to a chair 
at the other side of the desk and the thin lips smiled 
a sad but very kindly smile. And her voice — a 
curious veiled monotone — seemed like a voice from 
the beyond. 

“ My child,” she began, “ your school days are 
over and you are at liberty to leave us — if you 
choose.” 

Dory felt for her handkerchief. 

“ You are at liberty to go out into an utterly un¬ 
known place to you. To all the darkness and the little 
light which it contains.” She paused and fingered her 
silver crucifix. “ But you have had many happy 
years here with us who love you — have you not. 
Dory? ” 

“ Yes — I — ” 

“ Dear child, there is a home and protection always 
within these walls for you, if you wish to remain.” 

“ Thank you,” said Dory in a tiny voice. “ But 


INVISIBLE WINGS 13 

I — I’m— I’m afraid I can’t thank you just the 
same. . . .” 

“ Perhaps it would be wise to stop with us a little 
while longer, at least,” came the quiet old voice — 
which seemed to measure each word. 

“ I don’t know,” came the still tinier voice of Dory. 

“ Do you wish very much to go out into a cruel 
world — the evils of which you know not, dear? I 
call you to me this evening because I saw and heard 
you sing and you seem to be made not for material 
things, my dear child.” 

“ Thanks, I hope I shall — shall be worthy of your 

— your kind thought,” said Dory — then digging her 
nails so deeply into her tender palms that it hurt, 
she began, “ I think I will overcome evil. I have spent 
many hours in chapel praying God to help me — be¬ 
cause the world, although — I don’t know it well, is 
very dear to me and the people and all are dear to me, 
so I look forward to being in it and trying to be good 
myself, and to being good to other people — to helping 
them in some way — and I’ve prayed God to give my 
body some terrible punishment which I’d try to bear 

— if I should soil my soul with sin.” 

And Dory being an extremist in all things had really 
done this in all sincerity. The stoical expression of 
the Directress was in sharp contrast to Dory’s, who 
was now trembling from head to foot. The two 
women looked at each other silently. To each the 
other was an unsolvable enigma. The Directress 
selected one of the large keys from a chain on her 


14 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


belt, and slowly opened the bottom drawer of her 
desk. Then with a kind of hollow clatter she drew 
out a large envelope. 

“ My child, I can tell you in no better way of the 
dreadful world than by reading your mother’s life, 
written to me in a letter by your dear departed grand¬ 
mother.” The old woman put on some horn-rimmed 
glasses. Then glancing over them she saw that Dory’s 
eyes were strangely brilliant and her hands were 
clasped together convulsively. “ Er — you remember 
your mother, dear child? ” 

“ Yes, I was seven years old when she died — I 
remember.” 

“ Prove that you have learned the great lesson of 
self-control by listening very quietly.” 

Then the Superior glanced over the letter, placed 
her large dominant forefinger at the top of one page, 
and the low, monotonous voice began: 

“ The sad chapter of poor Doreen’s life is over. 
It held all the misery you feared the world would 
bring her and more than you in your life of grace can 
conceive. Of course they were infinitely happy while 
Barry was well. But when he failed in all his in¬ 
vestments his health broke down, and finally in des¬ 
titution Doreen was forced to find some way to earn 
their living, and so she went on the concert stage. 
Poor Barry survived a very short time. It was piti¬ 
ful— his end. My child was broken in spirit, but 
there was little Dory, and there was the necessity 
of money. Hence the brilliant theatrical career of 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i5 


which you so strongly disapproved. But I assure 
you there was no sinful gaiety attached to it — 
though it was surrounded with vice which had to be 
evaded. You will forgive me if I say that the typical 
Irish woman that Doreen was, has modesty and virtue 
bred in her bone. She withstands temptation as my 
daughter did, for honor was to her the priceless pos¬ 
session. Our acquaintances were numbered in the 
thousands, and there were few friends but those were 
loyal and very near to us. There was one — a young 
man, who was a great consolation. He too was in 
trouble, poor boy. There had been a girl to whom 
he had been devoted — but his family objected and 
forbade the marriage. It affected her mind and she 
had killed herself. Doreen reminded him of her and 
he came to us very often. At those times my daughter 
would sing simple songs — I can hear her now, her 
voice expressing the sweetness of her nature, and tears 
would come to her eyes. For at those times her 
heart spoke and told us of her own sorrow. She was 
always very quiet, — after those songs — sat in a 
way she had, her head on her hand, like a tired bird 
who after spreading its wings and soaring away to 
the skies, singing in ecstasy, had fallen back to earth 
when the song ended. Felix Strange would hold little 
Dory in his lap, and tell her stories, and he would tell 
us stories too of his own social world which seemed 
just as wonderful and fantastic. I want little Dory to 
know him when she goes forth into the world. 

“ Dear Reverend Mother, — things went fairly well 


i6 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


for a few years — but there came a time when Doreen 
became thin and colorless from overwork. We all 
begged her to rest and she consented. But the man¬ 
ager persuaded her to appear in a last opera which 
had been written especially for her. There came the 
opening night. Even through the golden wig and 
paint she looked ill. I begged her not to go on. But 
the manager declared she must just for that once. 
Doreen assured me that if her little girl were allowed 
to sit in the wings, she could go through the per¬ 
formance; and she did. 

“ She sang superbly. There came encore after en¬ 
core. At the end of the third act there was a torrent 
of applause. The hard old manager and all the com¬ 
pany were affected. Doreen sat holding her child 
until it was time to go on again. Then, with the 
first note, the hemorrhage came in one fierce pang of 
pain! Oh, my friend, it was the end. I remember 
hearing the doctor saying bitterly to the manager — 
‘ I told you — she needed rest — I told you, but you 
insisted. She sang but she sang with her heart’s 
blood tonight! Yes, she sang with her heart’s blood.’ 

“ Ah, it is hard to believe that my child is dead. 
I sit with dry eyes gazing into space, the tears scald¬ 
ing my throat — I sit, praying God to have mercy on 
us all. The only sunshine in my life is little Dory. 
You must send her to me once a week while I live. 
I shall stay just near. A tiny income left by my 
brother supports me, but Doreen leaves enough for 
Baby’s education. I place all in your hands. You 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i7 


are the only person to whom I have written at such 
length — you whose place in the world has always 
been a comforter of troubled souls. I hope we may 
soon meet, dear friend of mine. With affectionate 
thoughts, 

“ Always sincerely, 

“ Mildred Shawn.” 

The Superior had read quietly, continuously, and 
hearing no sound from the girl, was pleased at her 
control. But when the letter had been carefully 
folded and placed in the envelope, her glasses placed 
in their case, she looked and saw that Dory was sitting 
quite rigid, her eyes glassy as if she were turned to 
stone. This transformed the Superior into her real 
self, for in a moment she had the girl in her great 
arms holding the little head in her ample breast and 
rocking her to and fro. “ There, there — ” she cooed 
and the flood-gates were opened. A wild sob shook 
the rounded body and left it shivering like an aspen 
leaf. The sympathetic old woman drew out an enor¬ 
mous linen handkerchief, wiped the pretty eyes and 
kissed each cheek. 

“ Now, child, go and see your friend Zoe, and then 
spend an hour in Meditation, quite alone, it will be 
good for soul and body.” Immediately becoming the 
Superior again, she added in a low chant-like voice, 
“ While you are alone, my child, reflect on the treach¬ 
ery and cruelty which impregnates the life beyond 
these walls — hearts are lacerated — souls are lost. 


i8 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


Meditate upon the iniquitous world that broke your 
mother’s heart. You are so young I don’t like to 
think of your going out without protection. God will 
call you to us — to celibacy — and happiness.” 

All night long the girl wept bitterly — her hand 
ever seeking a little statuette beneath her pillow. Of 
that figurine you shall hear presently. And when 
Zoe Sand peeked in at her through the starched white 
curtains, she pretended to be asleep. For no human 
being could console or understand. All night long she 
suffered while she lived over and over what her mother 
must have suffered. 

But never once did she consider staying in the con¬ 
vent. For her heart was hungry — starving for love. 
She knew that the kindly but placid Directress could 
not understand. Her father and mother had tasted 
happiness together. The unemotional old woman 
could not comprehend that her mother had lived that 
happiness over and over until the end; and had died 
looking forward to a reunion in another world. With 
the intuition of all sensitives she divined that life had 
not been all cruel to those ill-fated lovers and, towards 
morning, her eyes became heavy and drowsy as a 
veil was lifted from them and she saw the slender 
form of her mother standing close to her, and a 
radiance filled the little room. Softly she touched 
her mother’s long brown hair and lo! as she did so 
the arms of the lovely woman became outstretched 
wings and her delicate feet left the floor. Although 
she was divinely beautiful, this metamorphosis fright- 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


19 

ened Dory and she fell on her knees and clasped her 
hands in prayer. 

“ Mother have mercy upon me! Advise me what to 
do! ” 

And her answer floated to Dory like a song wafted 
upon moonbeams — 

“ Doreen, it is too late for us both to lament your 
lack of vocational training. Try to do the best you 
can. Be brave, courageous; every day attain a little 
knowledge, for knowledge is power.” Slowly she as¬ 
cended towards the silvery light in the ceiling; her 
sweet face expressed heavenly love for her child, and 
she called, “ We know that knowledge is invisible 
wings for mortals.” 

“ Oh, pray that I shall one day have invisible 
wings! ” Dory cried as the apparition disappeared and 
she awakened to find herself still kneeling on the hard 
cold floor — her hands clasped in prayer. 


CHAPTER IV 


B LUE and gold was the sky next day and huge 
decorative clouds rose one upon the other in 
soft colors as does melody upon melody in 
some operas. The sun showed itself after many days 
of hiding, and for the sun it is not difficult to dry the 
eyes of one sad girl. 

Doreen lifted her aching head from the pillow and 
smiled at the thought of going out into the world, go¬ 
ing to meet life. 

Of course for the next day or so there were sudden 
floods of tears that stuck in her throat now and then 
— but between times there was much packing and 
rummaging and getting things together. 

“ Whose are those,” demanded Zoe Sand, popping 
her head up out of the depths of a clothes sheet and 
holding out a white object. 

“ Mine,” answered Dory, popping her head up. 

“ Awful coarse old things,” remarked Zoe, “ throw 
them out, dear — we’ll wear nothing but silk ones 
now, like Mother.” 

But Dory recognized a piece of lace her grand¬ 
mother had crocheted on “ them,” and smoothed them 
in her trunk, saying, “ Does your mother wear silk 
ones all the time? ” 

“ Sure,” answered the excited Zoe, — then pausing 
for a moment to rest and reminisce on Dory’s one 


20 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


21 


time in the world — the unforgettable occasion when 
she visited someone besides her grandmother, Zoe 
began — 

“ Say, Dory, do you remember that time you were 
visiting at my house in New York when we were about 
thirteen years old, and we dressed all up in Mother’s 
afternoon gowns and silk stockings and slippers, and 
big picture hat, and put Mother’s paint on our 
faces . . 

“ Yes,” added Dory, her eyes brilliant as she sat 
down to rest. “ And we went for a quiet nonchalant 
stroll on Riverside Drive — as it were — and I felt 
a crowd gathering in back of us and we just sus¬ 
pected it might be we — so we glanced back and there 
we were daintily holding our skirts up above our 
knees — nearly to our necks in the back! ” their 
laughter pealed at this. “ Then,” giggled Dory, hug¬ 
ging her knees as usual when delighted, “ what did 
we do but gather them up on all sides and run for 
our lives up the street to the house. Oh — will I 
ever forget my feeling when we saw your mother in 
the doorway! And your uncle! ” 

“ Oh,” laughed Zoe, “ dear old Uncle Frank would 
never say a word to us — but my other uncle — this 
one who lives with us now — Uncle Harry! ” — Zoe’s 
black eyes sought the heavens for comprehension. 

“ Oh, have you two uncles?” asked Dory, — feel¬ 
ing a great interest in all the family affairs now that 
she was to become part of it. 

“ Oh, yes,” said Zoe. “ But Uncle Frank who used 


22 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


to live with us before this uncle — he’s gone now — 
lives in Europe or somewhere. We can paint our 
faces as much as we please now/’ Zoe went on, “ and 
there’ll be nothing but chiffon skirts and we’ll know 
how to wear them too! ” 

“ Yes,” laughed Dory — “ you have what they call 
chic, Zoe! ” 

“ Well,” responded the flattered Zoe, “ I’ve heard 
Mommie say she’d rather see a woman have ‘ chic ’ 
than virtue! ” 

There was a soft footstep outside. 

“ Who was that? ” whispered Zoe — “ Was that 
Sister Sebastian who just slunk by? ” 

“ Oh, I don’t think so — she’s not sneaky,” said 
Dory, her heart fluttering in her throat. 

Zoe peeked out of the door cautiously, and looked 
up and down the corridor that ran past the “ ward¬ 
robe room.” “ There she is, sitting up at the end 
like a nasty old Sphinx,” announced Zoe. “ I’ll bet 
she’s been listening to everything. She’s sitting up 
there now with a smirk on her like a slit in a tomato 
can.” 

A faint rustle was heard. Zoe flew back to the 
chest and Sister Sebastian appeared in the doorway. 
She looked strangely pale. “ Is there something I 
can do for you children? ” 

“ No,” said Zoe, mellifluently. “ I only looked out 
at you, dear, because we are going so soon and there 
won’t be many chances to see that wonderful ‘ Mona 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


23 

Lisa ’ smile of yours,” and Zoe kissed her on each 
passive cheek. 

Dory said nothing, but she saw that their teacher’s 
eyes looked troubled and she felt depressed as always 
when Zoe did this sort of thing. 

Sister Sebastian returned to her post. 

Zoe stood with her teeth clenched like a beautiful 
young fury. 

Enfolding her in strong arms Dory pressed her 
cheek tightly against her hair and breathed a silent 
prayer. “ Dear Lord, I realize that we all have a 
baser self. It’s hard sometimes for me to rise above 
mine, but please protect Zoe against hers. Amen.” 


CHAPTER V 


A LOUIS XV clock pointed to half past four. 
The two girls had arrived at midday in New 
York from Chateauden. Not having slept at 
all the night before from the excitement, they had 
been sent to their rooms after luncheon for a little 
siesta before dinner. “ You will be called at five,” 
Mrs. Sand had said, but uncalled Dory had awakened 
on the moment. A very soft quilt caressed her cheek, 
it was of a deep rose-colored silk. Dory patted it 
vaguely, then became conscious of the exquisite linen 
of the bed. She buried her face in the soft embroid¬ 
ered pillow and felt for the statuette. “ Dearest,” 
she breathed to it, “ this is the dream world come 
true.” Her face flushed by a deep sleep, she sat up 
in bed and rubbed her eyes like a big baby and looked 
around. “ It’s the dream all right enough,” she said 
half aloud, and pounced out of bed on to the great 
white bear rug. 

The walls of the room were paneled in pale grey 
wood. On one side there were three long mirrors 
reaching to the ceiling. Each had a little ivory knob. 
The girl examined them. Lo! out came the mirrors 
and there appeared all sorts of drawers and clothes 
racks, and Dory saw herself on all sides to her im¬ 
mense delight. She made a kind of Princess dress 


24 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


25 


out of her nightgown with one hand and held her 
auburn curls high on her head with the other. The 
effect was ravishing. Dory viewed with no little 
pleasure the pretty curve at the back of her neck and 
the tiny curls that clung to it. Her slender form was 
shown to full advantage. Pirouetting and curtseying 
she hummed a gay tune while she danced a minuet, 
ending by hanging the rose-silk quilt in long folds 
around her shoulders, and taking her steps with an 
eye on her train. “ Some day I shall have a coat of 
this color,” thought Dory, and then looked around 
for more treasures. There were many beautiful grey 
chairs all of which were tried and found worthy of this 
new world. 

What a dressing table! Indeed never had she 
dreamed so wonderful a dressing table as that between 
the long windows. It was small and had frivolous 
legs that curved beneath the weight of the golden 
treasure it bore, and it wore an antique cover of 
Flanders lace, and its mirror was heart-shaped. At 
either side like two crystal sentinels guarding the 
precious gold toilet set, were tall cut-glass candle¬ 
sticks topped by creamy shades. There were many 
rose-colored curtains which reached from the sky- 
painted ceiling to the carpet. Doreen parted one pair 
and found herself in her bathroom. She fairly purred 
with delight. It had soft green lattice work on the 
walls upon which English ivy grew. Dory folded her 
arms and gazed with unbelieving eyes at the sunken 
bath tub of green tiles, at the quaintly decorated ceil- 


26 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


ing and all the bottles upon crystal shelves. Embroid¬ 
ered towels hung upon silver rails. Dory put out her 
hand to touch one of them. “ Silk towels, I suppose, 
— nothing less,” she whispered, — but investigation 
proved they were linen, and warm! The silver rods 
were burning! At this marvel of ingeniousness, she 
played a silent tune with her finger-tips on her lips. 
“ And everything here is warm and beautiful and cosy 
like those towels. This is the kind of place I should 
like — when I — Marry.” Her eyes grew soft. She 
sat down on the little lounge and hypothecated her 
lover. 

Still in her dream, she arose and glanced at herself 
in a mirror. She saw a fascinating carved knob just 
above the tub. Her finger reached out to touch it. 
There might be more wonders disclosed. It turned. 
Down poured a fountain of cold water all over the 
pretty gown, drenching her completely. And like Eve 
she was sorry she had looked for more treasures. 
Her heart stood still. The bathroom would be ruined! 
An unconscious hand on a button brought help. 

Tap — tap at the door. 

“ Oooo — come in,” cried Dory. 

Tap — tap again. 

“ Come in,” cried the girl. 

Bangs, the English butler, entered respectfully, in 
full regimentals, bearing a tray and a small glass of 
some amber-colored liquid. 

“ Oooo — ” cried Dory. “ I thought — please go 
out — ” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


27 

Bangs clapped his hand over his mouth and re¬ 
treated. 

“ Dory,” called the voice of Zoe. 

“ Oh, come quick.” 

Zoe appeared in a peach-colored Oriental kimono. 
“ Whatever is the matter, you folly — ” 

“ I’m drenched — O, Zoe, fix that fountain, it will 
run over everything — who was that just came in here 
— Oooo, I was — my nightie was — I — ” 

This brought one of those crescendo laughs from 
Zoe, which the Nuns always begged her to control. 
Full vent was given to it now, while Dory donned a 
dry nightie. Zoe explained Bangs the butler and then 
began to laugh again so loudly that her shouts brought 
Mrs. Sand. 

With long undulating movements the slim silken 
gowned woman came in and sat beside the bed, while 
Zoe at the top of her voice related the Bangs incident. 

“ That is droll,” said her mother. “ She’s like a 
cunning baby. Better jump in bed for a moment, 
dear, and get warm.” And bending over she took the 
rose silk quilt and covered Dory very tenderly. 

To Dory, the latest and most astonishing object of 
Art in the place was Mrs. Sand. She looked exactly 
like Zoe, and almost as young, except in certain 
lights! But even now one of those cruel lights stood 
in judgment. The blue black hair was arranged 
severely and close to the small shapely head. But the 
roots showed white here and there, at the part. The 
marble skin of the beautiful Bella Sand now looked a 


28 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


little wrinkled and lavender beneath the pink powder. 
Her large mouth had more form than Zoe’s, because 
she painted it in a Cupid’s bow. She had the same 
nose over which the skin was drawn a little more 
tightly and the same kind of large teeth which showed 
too prominently when she laughed. When she looked 
out beneath half-closed blackened lashes those strong 
teeth seemed to make even her soft black eyes metallic. 

“ Well, dear/’ said Mrs. Sand in her soft studied 
voice, “ do you think you will be happy to lead a 
quiet life here with Zoe and the maid for a year? ” 

“ Happy! I’ll be eternally grateful . . .” 

Mrs. Sand laid her thin, deeply-veined hand upon 
the girl’s soft one. “ I am very fond of you, Dory, 
you must think of this house as your home.” 

“ I’m fond of you, too,” said Dory very truthfully. 

After the two had gone to dress, Dory wished 
ardently that Mrs. Sand would not call attention to 
that deeply-veined hand by covering it with so many 
diamond rings. 


CHAPTER VI 


A T half past eight that night the family sat down 
to dinner. Dory had been presented to Mr. 
Balster, “ Uncle Harry,” who now occupied 
the seat at the head of the huge round lace-covered 
table. Rose lights dissolved the tapestry hung walls 
into Rembrandt shadows, showed the design of the 
rich silver and glass on the table, and accentuated the 
curious exotic beauty of Mrs. Sand. 

Zoe was pale and wild-eyed and very loquacious. 
Dory was slightly flushed and very silent. Like a 
frightened bird her heart fluttered about her breast. 

While Zoe chattered, strange glances were ex¬ 
changed between Mrs. Sand, as her black slanting eyes 
looked over her thin-stemmed wine glass, and “ Uncle 
Harry,” who ate ravenously for a long time. 

“Ha! ” he breathed as the last course was car¬ 
ried out. “ I’ve been away from the good old States 
for a year and I’ve been hungry — you can bet, for 
good old American cooking. I tell you, Bella, you 
don’t get this over in France.” 

“ That’s strange,” laughed Mrs. Sand. “ It is well 
that I am going with you next time. I’ll show you the 
real restaurants. Antoine, our chef here, is French 
you know.” 


29 


30 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ Oui — that’s one on you, Uncle Harry,” cried Zoe, 
delighted that conversation had begun, and she waved 
her fingers under his nose. 

“ Well,”' drawled Uncle Harry, “ as long as Dory 
likes it, it’s all right — do you like it, Dory? ” Lean¬ 
ing over, he laid his large heavy hand on Dory’s arm. 

The familiarity dyed her neck and face a deep rose. 

“ Oh, you folly,” laughed Zoe. “ Look at you 
blush.” 

“ You don’t mind if I call you Dory? ” ventured 
Uncle Harry pretending to cry with elephantine play¬ 
fulness. 

“ Since she is a young lady now, it might be better 
to call her Miss O’Moore just yet,” ventured Mrs. 
Sand. And back of the slow warm voice, an icy wave 
seemed to chill the room. 

“ You keep out of this, Bella,” roared Uncle Harry 
as he sprang back — “ did I ask you? ” 

“ Oh, my dear boy, I was only joking, now don’t 
be cross.”’ 

“ Regular Mrs. Buttinsky,” returned Uncle Harry 
resuming his ponderous gaiety. 

Uncle Harry had been cross to her beautiful bene¬ 
factress and Dory disliked him now, and knew she 
always would. 

Coffee was served by the patronizing butler, in tiny 
Dresden cups. Mrs. Sand placed a cigarette between 
her large scarlet lips, and the thin blue smoke rising 
before the dark fire of her eyes, reminded Dory of the 
incense rising before the light of the heathen god which 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


3 i 


was in the smoking-room downstairs. She had never 
seen a woman smoke before. Mrs. Sand made it seem 
evil in a beautiful, mysterious way. 

Opposite, smoking a large cigar, sat Uncle Harry. 
What a picture of arrogant selfishness he was! Scant 
light hair victoriously covered his large round head. 
“ Victoriously ” because Andre the valet was proud 
of his achievement in making it suffice. Proud also 
was Andre of the rather high collars — made possible 
by daily massage and constant reminding — “ Keep 
the chin well up, sir ” — like silken down were the 
light eyebrows that formed a white line on the flushed 
bulging forehead and like white silk fringe were the 
eyelashes that failed to shade the China blue eyes. 
The nose was a piece of well-kept flesh, put carefully 
in just the proper place, three round pleats making 
the nostrils heavy and large. Andre assured him the 
large freckles on his forehead came from a torpid liver 
and nothing would eradicate them save exercise or 
diet. So Uncle Harry retained the freckles. The 
mouth was sensual in repose, and dropped pathetically 
into the well-trained chin as does that of a French 
bull-dog. But it was not often in repose. For it 
moved along with his selfish thoughts, puckering and 
twisting itself to the sides. When he laughed, strange 
to say, he was immediately transformed. For then his 
strong white teeth showed themselves and Harry 
Balster looked like a freckled-faced fat boy. Not that 
a freckled-faced fat boy is a particularly attractive 
object, but as such Uncle Harry was certainly im- 


32 INVISIBLE WINGS 

proved, and Mrs. Sand found great consolation in the 
transformation. 

The butler poured some cognac for Mr. Balster, 
who raised it to his lips and again fell to studying 
Mrs. Sand as she leaned across the table. Is there 
anything more maddening than the steady stare of a 
mute questioner? He always wore the same expres¬ 
sion when he thought most profoundly — an expression 
of blankness. One sees it on certain gentlemen as they 
look out of their club windows. As the French say, 
so the cow watches the passing train! 

Bella Sand twitched her feet uncomfortably as she 
smiled gaily in answer to some trivial question of 
Zoe’s. 

Uncle Harry glanced at Dory. Stared at her in 
gloating admiration. The lights in her agate brown 
eyes were intensified by the black lashes which grew 
unusually long on the lower lid. If one scrutinized as 
Uncle Harry did now, one perceived that those strange 
eyes were not exactly alike, one was slightly different 
in form from the other, but this defect was an added 
charm and seemed to emphasize the wistful femininity 
of the tender face. He glanced approvingly at the sen¬ 
sitive rose-colored mouth, and dilated his thick nostrils 
as he breathed in the fresh perfume of youth which 
clung about her. 

Another long puff at the cigar. “ Bella was a good- 
looking woman in the old days,” he thought. “ Even 
when I met her twelve years ago and right up to a 
couple of years ago there was none better than Bella.” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


33 


Then too, he realized and appreciated that it had been 
Bella who had made him presentable. Coming from 
the West at the age of thirty, he looked like a comic 
supplement. He was the loud-plaid, brown derby, 
diamond ring kind, with a fat cigar in his mouth. 
Balster and his father made their fortune manufactur¬ 
ing artificial flowers. Their factories were well known 
in the West, their machines turned out flowers by 
the millions, and most of the work was done by chil¬ 
dren. Harry Balster fattened on child labor and con¬ 
gratulated himself on the small wages paid his em¬ 
ployees most of whom were between the age of fourteen 
and sixteen. 

“ I have invited some people in tonight to celebrate 
your home-coming,” came the soft voice of Mrs. Sand. 
Her chair was drawn back by Bangs, and they all 
rose. “ I hope you are pleased, dear? ” 

“ Oh — a party! ” cried Zoe. 

“ Yes, — an evening with music. Jules Blenner will 
play. This is a great treat.” 

“ Well, there’ll soon be another party in honor of 
my going away,”' said Mr. Balster as significantly as 
possible. 

“ Yes, OUR going away,” added Mrs. Sand sweetly. 

There was no answer from Uncle Harry and they all 
passed into the salon. 

“Don’t you like parties?” demanded Zoe of her 
purple-faced uncle. 

“ Yes, surely,” said he. “ I’ll brighten up in a little 
while, don’t you worry. And I say,” turning to Mrs. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


34 

Sand, “ now that Zoe is a young lady I think she may 
as well call me Harry — don’t you think so, Bella? ” 

Mrs. Sand raised her eyebrows, but as he was about 
to speak she acquiesced quickly: “ Why, yes — I 
should think so.” 

“ Oh, that seems funny,” laughed Zoe. 

“ Well, that is what you are to do now, my dear, 
since Harry wishes it,” replied her mother with sweet 
sternness. 

The bell was heard dimly. 

“ I think that is Silvia’s voice,” said Mrs. Sand. 

“ Ha, we’re off! ” cried Harry, jumping up. 

Mrs. Sand ran to him. “ You are so handsome to¬ 
night,” she whispered as she fingered a carnation in 
his buttonhole. While she arranged it, Harry Balster 
looked over her shoulder at Dory. 

“ Ah,” cried Mrs. Sand — “ you are wonderful 
looking when you smile like that.” She fussed with 
the carnation but Balster still looked over her shoulder 
at Dory who was sorting some music. 

Doreen’s white silk dress fell in fine sculptural folds 
about her. She looked like a marble statue of girl¬ 
hood, in all its wistful purity. 

“ Mrs. Van Twiller,” announced Bangs. There was 
a faint rustle — then — two palpitating bosoms ap¬ 
peared over a black jet dress, and a mouth painted 
clown-red was all that could be seen under a huge 
black hat. 

“ My dear Silvia,” cried Mrs. Sand. “ So glad — 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


35 

this is my little daughter Zoe — you remember, and 
Miss O’Moore.” 

The girls stood near Mrs. Sand while more vivid 
people were introduced. 

As Dory explained to Zoe afterwards, “ My ears 
were run out at the conversation all around me.” 
Mrs. Van Twiller and Mr. Balster stood just back of 
her, as the people came in. “ You heard that story of 
-” said Silvia. 

“ Oh, yes — yes,” Harry answered. “ Everybody 
seems to come to it these days — what did they charge 
him with — er — ah — ” 

“ Oh, no,” said she, comprehending, and then whis¬ 
pered something in his ear. 

“Haw! Haw! ” roared Harry. “Oh, Silvia, you 
are a wag! It’s good to see you again — one doesn’t 
get the good old American wit over there in France. 
They have no sense of humor in France.” 

“ Why, I didn’t know you spoke French very flu¬ 
ently,” replied Mrs. Van Twiller. “ Do you? ” 

“ Oh no — not fluently — in fact, I don’t under¬ 
stand their damned old language at all.” 

“ Ha! Ha! ” laughed she. “ But you are sure they 
have no sense of humor, anyway! ” 

The pleasant voice of a gentleman interrupted. 
“ What did you say is the name of your guest, Harry? ” 

“ O’Moore, Doreen O’Moore — just from the semi¬ 
nary my boy,” gurgled Harry, much as one speaks of 
a fresh egg at midwinter, in the city. 



36 INVISIBLE WINGS 

“ Present me, will you? Mrs. Sand forgot to in the 
rush.” 

“ We-ell,” drawled Balster, “ you want to be pre¬ 
sented, do you, Felix — some peach, what well, 
you’re the kind of handsome gadabout I want to keep 
away from her. You’re a fine gink to know a ” 

“ Oh, I say.” 

“ You know,” interjected Mrs. Van Twiller, “ Felix 
has well earned the reputation he has that every girl 
in town ...” 

“ Well,” said Balster, putting his stubby arm around 
the square lean shoulders, “ just don’t use the fatal 
charms here — now promise.” 

“ Miss O’Moore, may I present Mr. Strange — 
now,” added the gay host . . . “ remember, Felix 
. . .” he winked and waved a large finger of warn¬ 
ing. When a person of elemental mind is also vulgar, 
he is the lowest form of human animal, no matter what 
his caste. 

“ Shall we go and sit down over there and watch 
the passing crowd? ” said Felix Strange. 

The maze of people, the gayety, had gone to the 
girl’s head like champagne, but the vulgar element 
depressed, perplexed her, and now this meeting with 
this Felix Strange brought a different breath. She 
felt herself being propped by pillows, in an inoffensive 
way — nay, charming way. Somehow thought of Mr. 
Balster made her like this man. His virile tapering 
hands — she saw them place a little footstool for her. 
The dark head was superbly set on fine shoulders. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


37 


He had a small black mustache and grey-blue eyes 
with dark shadows that enhanced their charm. And 
when he smiled she did not feel embarrassed as she 
did with Mr. Balster. “ Maybe it is my Felix 
Strange,” thought Dory with a throb of emotion, “ the 
one Grandma spoke about in her letters to the Rev¬ 
erend Mother.” He seemed made for these exquisite 
surroundings while Mr. Balster seemed like a bull 
in a china shop. “ Oh, I wonder,” she began in a 
quivering little voice. 

For some reason, Dory felt that if this were not 
her “ Felix Strange,” she would burst into tears. 
“ Please tell me,” she said quickly, a great pleading 
in her voice, “ are you my — are you Mr. Felix 
Strange that knew m-my mother — my mother was 
Mrs. Barry O’Moore.” 

“ Yes, Dory, I am he! ” 

Dory’s eyes widened, she scarcely believed it for 
a moment, he was so calm. 

“ You doubt it, little Dory? ” 

“ Oh, no — only you seem so — not so — glad! ” 

“ We mustn’t have any scenes here, Dory — just 
rest quietly and I will tell you stories as of old — only 
true stories — you must lunch with me to-morrow,” 
he said quietly, “ without fail and we’ll have a real 
talk — you were Zoe’s chum and now are visiting her 
— since school is over; is that it? ” 

“ Yes,” gasped Dory wonderingly. There seemed 
some complex here she did not understand. 

“ Dear me,” sighed Felix Strange, apparently ignor- 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


38 

ing Dory’s excitement, “ there’s a funny crowd here 
tonight.” He seemed to settle back within his chair 
so comfortably that Dory felt herself settling calmly 
in hers. He was one of those people who could radiate 
quiet. 

“ Wonderful,” replied Dory, with a little sigh. She 
felt soothed and more, she felt safe. 

“ Well, yes, wonderful in its way,” continued he, 
“ one always sees a lot of color at Bella Sand’s.” 

“ It’s kind of like a fairy gathering. I never 
dreamed anything so wonderful! ” 

“ Well, yes, Dory — or like a great big Punch and 
Judy show. See that funny automaton over there — 
that’s Mrs. Van Twiller.” 

“ Who is she? ” whispered Dory. 

“ That’s Mrs. Sand’s chum. She’s an actress — 
she acts better off the stage than on — she’s always 
pretending she’s a lady when off. It’s a perfect mania 
with her.” 

“ But she looks like the deep-eyed villainess,” 
laughed Dory. She was now enjoying herself im¬ 
mensely and so, apparently, was Felix Strange. 

“ But tell me one thing,” begged the girl, “ did you 
know me the minute you saw me? ” 

“ Almost — that is why I came over and took you 
away. You not only have your mother’s face, but 
her voice — that flavor of the old brogue.” 

“ I feel happy. It is a kind of as-if-I-met-my- 
father feeling. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


39 

“ That’s nice, Dory. You look younger now than 
you did when I knew you so many years ago! ” 

Dory looked as if she were puzzling to understand 
the joke. 

Felix Strange looked around the room and smiled. 
“ Never have I seen anything quite so young as you 
tonight,” he answered gravely. 

Dory dismissed that as something she did not have 
to understand, and felt it her turn to converse. 

“ Oh, look at the funny short lady over there with 
the gold hair! She’s short-waisted and tight-waisted 
and then very large right down to her feet — I believe 
she has melted.” 

“ Ha! ” laughed Felix. “ She does belong to the 
melted class.” 

“ Now tell me, who is that little girl with the flaxen 
curls and red slippers? She looks like a big doll with 
real eyelashes.” 

“ Now that,” answered Felix, “ is the melting 
variety. She’s a soubrette with wonderful painted 
eyelashes. And that hatchet-faced woman with her, 
is her fond mother.” Felix explained that all the best 
soubrettes had hatchet-faced mothers who chaperoned 
them at all times except most imperative ones. 

Just then a tall thin woman dressed in black, un¬ 
dulated across the room, smoking a cigarette through 
a long amber holder. “ That is Beryl Nickots, a 
sculptor. She’s very famous.” 

“ All her strength seems to have gone to her hair,” 
sighed Dory — “ there are piles of it cruelly weighing 


4 o INVISIBLE WINGS 

down her poor frail body — poor thing, she looks so 
ill.” 

“ She’s no poor thing — she’s quite strong,” an¬ 
swered Felix, “ but she’s one of those people who 
think it poetic to look like a dying consumptive. She 
prefers it.” 

The woman felt they were discussing her, so she 
immediately struck a Botticelli pose, stretching her 
scrawny neck and coughing a little. 

“ She’ll come over now,” smiled Felix, “ You must 
tell her she looks deathly pale and ask if she does not 
want a window open. She will love you for it.” 

As they talked on poor Dory began to feel suffo¬ 
cated. This exotic air did not give oxygen enough for 
— was it her lungs or her mind? 

“ Oh, my — I feel a sinking feeling,” she suddenly 
cried. Felix Strange opened the window and fetched 
some water. 

Strange had lived too much to take an innocent look 
at its face value. He had been talking in a worldly, 
sophisticated vein to see how Dory would take it. 
Now as he sat gently fanning the girl’s pale sweet 
face, he saw with relief that she had recoiled from 
all this gross Vanity Fair. She was making a brave 
effort to keep her head above water.. But he feared 
that this vile vortex into which she had been thrown 
would destroy her. He had met Zoe the year before 
on her vacation and thought her fascinating. But the 
point now was that to his amazement and horror, he 
met with her, the daughter of Mrs. Barry O’Moore. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


4i 

It was as if he had met his own child in this house. 
He thought of the unforgettable time during which 
he had known Dory’s Mother, thought of the genuine 
admiration he had had for that woman, and of the 
sympathy and help she had given him in a time of 
sorrow. She and Barry had opened the doors of 
their home to him, and it was the only home he had 
ever known. For the one he had grown up in was 
merely a house, — a very smart town and a country 
home. And his mother? His mother was an elegantly 
dressed person who came to see him — her only son, 
at a certain time every day. Her chief pleasure was 
in reading under a picture in the society sheet — “ The 
most stunning woman at the opera was Mrs. Cyril 
Strange.” 

When his father died and left him millions, he was 
naturally considered a great catch. And his own 
mother, and all his friends’ mothers had combined in 
pleading with him not to drive the family name in the 
dirt by marrying the charming poor girl of his choice. 
It was only after her suicide that he realized he had 
proven himself a weakling and a cad. He had let 
happiness sift through his fingers, and now his tragic 
life was comforted by Doreen O’Moore. It was she 
who encouraged him in his career as a magazine owner, 
it was Doreen who had named the magazine which 
had since proved, as she said it would, an object in 
life for him, and a force in the world of literature. 

Some years after Mrs. O’Moore’s death, Felix 
Strange married the daughter of an old family, as dis- 


42 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


tinguished as his own, and everybody was content. 
At a time of loneliness he and Margot Strange were 
thrown much together through a Newport season, and 
she knew precisely what she wanted. Before the sum¬ 
mer was over, everyone had them engaged. Before the 
winter was over they had been constantly feted and 
dined, and finally, amidst barbaric ceremony and 
grandeur, they had been married. 

Margot Strange assured her husband she was happy, 
though he marvelled how she could be. Nevertheless 
she really was, for was she not now the entire mistress 
of herself and of a smart town and country house? 
She took a passionate active interest in anti-suffrage, 
surrounded herself with the adulation of society’s rich 
dilettantes and no watchful eye of a chaperon was 
necessary. Felix loathed all this triviality. Margot 
scoffed at the idea of children, home — at everything 
simple or normal, at all that Felix craved. “ You are 
so magnificently equipped for child-bearing by na¬ 
ture,” he pleaded. But Margot had stubbornly pur¬ 
sued her artificial life. Felix was forced to bow his 
head to her will. And though they appeared properly 
attentive to each other when he accompanied her at 
such important functions as weddings, christenings, 
dog-shows and funerals, their paths steadily diverged. 

How often does the dance of society’s best butter¬ 
flies begin with the gracious low bow. The steps are 
very pretty at first, then the pair keep further and 
further apart; when the parting is made final and 
complete, the newspapers flagrantly give all the de- 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


43 

tails to a public that is always interested though it 
seldom applauds. 

After his marriage Felix became more engrossed in 
his magazine than ever. He became a munificent pa¬ 
tron of the Arts. And he also became devoted to a 
declasse set of questionable or “ unquestionable ” 
Bohemians. Their frank vulgarity amused him. 
Bella Sand was the centre of a would-be smart, very 
fast set. And for years Felix Strange had been an 
habitue at her salon. Hence his appearance to¬ 
night. He had often thought of the noble Doreen 
O’Moore, who had died in so tragic a way, and won¬ 
dered what had become of her child, little Dory. 

Now that he had found her, he wished that he might 
carry her bodily out of the place that night. But he 
realized that he had taken a great deal to drink at 
dinner and be it said that drink was getting a stronger 
hold on him every year. He concluded he would be 
more competent in the morning. Then he would 
inquire into Dory’s finances and make all necessary 
arrangements for her immediate departure and per¬ 
manent protection, and so return in part the tender 
kindness of her mother and grandmother to him¬ 
self in the long ago when he was so nearly crushed to 
death. 

“ There, there, Dory, you must enjoy the Punch and 
Judy show,” he said at last, still waving the fan 
gently. “I am right here with you, just as in the old 
days when I used to hold you high up at the Gignol. 
See, over there, the funny purple-faced old doll with 


44 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


the flaring white whiskers. He’s trained to be a 
lawyer and sometimes goes through his part very well 
and lots of gold is put in his little pockets. It en¬ 
ables him to support that overdressed lady by his 
side — the lady who is overflowing her gown, — what 
do you think of her?” 

Dory was reassured and laughed. “ She looks as 
if she would 

‘ Burst from her shell 
With a horible yell . . .’ 
as the song goes.” 

In his dulled brain Felix resolved that his first act 
of protection must be to prepare her for learning later 
“ what kind of a crowd she was in.” So he called her 
attention to a stalky little man with black patent- 
leather hair, a round face, and a frilled shirt-front. 

“Ugh! he’s horrid,” ejaculated Dory. “I’m sure 
he is talking about himself to those pretty women in 
the corner. He’d have to take the part of Humpty- 
Dumpty — the hard boiled egg in our Gignol ”... 
there came a twinkle in her Irish eyes . . . 

; “ Humpty Dumpty sat in the hall, 

Humpty Dumpty he had a gall,” 
she whispered. 

“ Why, that is Frank Hilliard,” Felix laughed. He’s 
a nice little fellow . . . he’s a thief.” 

“What! ” 

“ Yes, he was so successful, you see — got such a 
lot of money — that he’s a great pet around town. 
They whisper sympathetically ‘ kleptomaniac.’ ” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


45 

“ How, — how awful,” poor Dory’s face clouded 
again. “ Yet God has given him that lovely wife.” 

“ Ah,” said Felix wafting the little fan, gently. 
“ The law of compensation always predominates in 
the end. You see, this way he’ll spend all the money 
— the lovely little wife helping him of course, then 
he’ll start burgling, probably be sent up for several 
years, come out with spirit broken, and be a pick¬ 
pocket. That kind of person never works. You 
mustn’t stare at him that way, Dory, or the Punch 
and Judy show must close.” 

Jack Harrington, a newspaper reporter, wandered 
up. Harrington had been flirting with Zoe and felt 
with reason that he had gained her affection. He was 
a well-knit, average-sized brown-haired young man, 
with a large mouth and narrow grey eyes which sadly 
needed glasses, but he never wore them except on the 
end of a very effective broad black ribbon. By pro¬ 
fession he was a journalist. He had nothing in the 
world save charming manners and faultless clothes. 
He was a great favorite. “ You must have a high¬ 
ball with me, Felix,” he said. 

“ Not a thing, old man, thanks.” 

“ Oh, yes,” insisted Mr. Harrington. He was al¬ 
ways most generously hospitable about these matters, 
when in other people’s houses. Especially since pro¬ 
hibition ! 

“ Sh! I have had too much to drink already,” 
whispered Felix solemnly. 


46 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ Sh! ” mocked Harrington, equally solemnly as he 
went to pour the drink. 

Dory excused herself and went over to talk to Zoe. 

And Felix found himself rapidly consuming a cool, 
refreshing high-ball and then vaguely found himself 
taking two or three more. All the time Jack Harring¬ 
ton was talking, as Felix put it “ ravenously ” about 
the charms of Zoe, and Felix wondered more and more 
feebly what would become of Dory if he left her here. 
He was sleeping when Jules Blenner appeared. 

Blenner was dark and not tall, about five feet eight. 
He was slender but not frail looking, though as he 
stood his shoulders drooped a little and his chest 
seemed to curve in. But the English tailors approve 
of this posture for the moment. It is the “ smart ” 
way to stand. He wore his clothes with much distinc¬ 
tion. His dead mother was a beautiful Levantine with 
the chiseled distinction so often seen in the features 
of those old races, and a likeness to her graced her 
son. Happily for him he inherited neither the dyspep¬ 
tic stomach of his father nor the grouchy pessimism 
which generally goes with it. A painter would have 
seen in young Blenner’s dark ivory skin green shadows, 
and a sculptor would have enjoyed the subtilty of its 
modelling. Curly blue black locks were cut close at 
the back and slicked off the broad forehead. His 
large wide apart agate brown eyes with their full lids 
and crescent-shaped brows were the man’s best fea¬ 
ture, and expressed what au fond he really was — 
the idealistic artist. But weakness had marked the 


INVISIBLE WINGS 47 

mouth and chin and so made one more demi-god of 
the earth — earthly. 

As he stood looking about the room, he rubbed his 
hands in a way instrumentalists have — and Dory no¬ 
ticed that they were broad and muscular. He bent 
over to the piano and began to touch the keys vaguely, 
still looking around the room. He caught the eyes 
of Dory looking wonderingly at him, and then kept 
her in view. The lights of the crystal chandelier and 
its myriad reflections in the mirrors grew fewer. Then 
someone put them out entirely. To the lights of soft- 
colored lamps alone Jules Blenner struck the sombre 
chords of Chopin’s Nocturne Opus i. So sympathet¬ 
ically did he follow his motif through its golden maze 
that the notes fell like so many warm tears from the 
heart of the tragic Chopin, like so many sighs of his 
hopeless sickness — so many pangs of his passionate 
love. All those restless babbling people of a moment 
before had paused in their strange race through life. 
Each one relaxed in a chair, each one gazed into his 
dreamland — silent shadows let free by starving souls 
— souls that were now being fed by this magic music. 

Swift ominous thoughts came to Dory, but she rose 
above them. She was a caged bird, set free; she 
gloried in it and allowed herself to soar, passing those 
thoughts which were ominous as she flew higher and 
higher into this new vivid expanse. She would formu¬ 
late her thoughts after it was over, when she would 
have had a cozy chat with Zoe, said her prayers and 
was once more in that pretty grey bed between the 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


48 

silken sheets. Now she only knew the spell of the 
music, and the still stronger spell of the brilliant young 
musician. 

Soon it was over. The lights were brightly shin¬ 
ing, the people had eaten and drank, and Jules 
Blenner had chatted with Dory and said good-night, 
touching the back of her hand with his warm lips — 
perhaps a moment too long, as he whispered — “I — 
I played only to you tonight — you made me really 
play Chopin tonight,” and he passed out of the room. 
In her happiness, Dory searched for her friend — for 
Felix Strange, but he had left surreptitiously, having 
been advised by Jack Harrington that he was not 
“ holding his liquor very well these days.” 

Jack had promised to give Dory full directions for 
the meeting on the morrow; this he did. Jack him¬ 
self felt happy, for had not the impulsive Zoe yielded 
to his embraces in a dance — yielded her lips in a 
long kiss and told him she loved him? 

At last Harry Balster’s stentorian voice bade the 
last person good-night — the last but one. It was 
Silvia Van Twiller who remained, she wanted to bor¬ 
row some money. “ I have something important to 
talk over with Bella — do you mind if we retire to her 
boudoir for a little half hour? ” she said. 

“ Go ahead,” responded Harry. 

Zoe laid a hot trembling hand on Dory’s arm. “ I’m 
going to my room, dear,” she whispered, “ come in, 
when you have your kimono on. “ There’s lots to 
tell! ” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


49 


“ Oh,” cried Harry, “ I seem to be all alone. I 
think Dory ought to sing me a little song. I’ve never 
heard Dory sing.” 

“ Yes, do,” called out Mrs. Sand, “ go in and sing 
for him, Dory, if you are not too tired.” 

Now if there ever was an inappropriate time for sing¬ 
ing — this, in Dory’s mind, was it. She did not like 
the idea of being left alone with Balster. But they 
were so kind to her she would go. And while she 
sang, she would think of the dear eyes of Jules Blenner 
— and that vague extra moment in which his lips had 
clung to her hand. 

“ I must go to my room,” Zoe said. “ I’ll wait for 
you, dear! ” 

Dory clung to her for a moment then went to do 
as Mrs. Sand bade her. 

Harry Balster lighted one rose-colored light near the 
piano — leaned back in a large chair, settled his re¬ 
ceding chin into his collar, lighted a cigar, and waited 
while Dory sat at the piano, her hands poised over 
the keys. 

In all his life he had never seen anything more 
desirable than this girl. But here he was tied by a 
silent bond to a middle-aged woman. A woman who 
had subjugated him, by manifesting her superiority. 
He knew he had not been bred a gentleman, but he 
hated Bella’s superiority. After all, what was poor 
Bella Sand now? He’d look nice with a poor old 
“ gink ” dragging around Europe. But with this girl 
they would indeed be an attractive pair! He must 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


50 

have her for his own! Unintelligent as he was, he 
was conscious of the loyalty and sensitiveness of 
Dory’s nature. He must get her now, before she fell 
under the spell of Bella. He would marry her. He 
felt that the time had really come for making his 
choice. And he had been taught that a rich man 
could have any poor woman he wanted. A feeling of 
self-pity swept over him as he thought — “ A rich 
attractive man like myself, not established with a 
beautiful young wife, a fine house where the ‘ gentry ’ 
would come and a pew in a church where I’d be a 
pillar! ” He had always wanted to be a church pillar. 
There was something lurid about this surreptitious life 
he led with Bella. With a grieved expression he said 
to himself that it did not suit his true nature. He 
would abandon it all! These thoughts passed through 
his head as Dory, thinking of her musician, sang 
simple old songs. 

Finally she sighed and rose. “ You must be tired 
of my singing now . . .” 

But Harry Balster went over and stood very close 
to her, breathing heavily. 

“ Tired of you,” he repeated amorously — then drew 
his breath in between clinched teeth in approved ro¬ 
mantic style. — “ Oh, Dory,” he quivered, “ you don’t 
know what you say. For the first time in years my 
poor heart has been rested.” 

“ Oh, Mr. Balster, are you ill? ” The girl tried to 
say it in a nonchalant way, feeling instinctively that 
he was growing sentimental. “ You don’t look it,” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


Si 

she added nervously. If she might only think of 
something funny to say. But one’s wit — if one pos¬ 
sesses that quality — is generally stupefied in such 
moments of need. 

“ Doreen,” continued her host, “ I may not look it 
— I try not to, but I am sad — my life is wrecked! ” 
“Oh, now I’m sorry — I am — Mr. Balster.” In 
anger or sympathy or any deep feeling Doreen — as 
her grandmother used to say, “ reverted to type ” and 
dropped into the melodious O’Moore brogue. 

“ Wrecked — wrecked,” he repeated hopelessly, 
nodding his big head with the weight of the word. 

“ Is there nothing to be done at all? ” ventured 
Doreen. Then a thought came to her —“ Oh, I know 
you must be unhappy about those poor children work¬ 
ing for you in your factory! ” 

“ Well, if that isn’t a silly remark for an intelli¬ 
gent girl like you to make. Why, say,” he declared in 
his nasal twang, “ listen to statistics: of a group of 
six thousand two hundred and seventy working chil¬ 
dren in Chicago, fifty-eight per cent, left school at 
fourteen years of age — and,” he leaned back in his 
chair for emphasis — “ and liked it — preferred it — 
do you get me? I keep three hundred kids at work 
in one factory alone. I don’t want them until they’re 
fourteen, and say, their parents can hardly wait till 
they reach that age. Most of ’em, working for me, 
are between the ages of fourteen and sixteen. They get 
ideas of higher wages after that and my foremen al- 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


52 


S' 


ways say, ‘ Try and get it.’ If they can so much the 
better — we always have a waiting list of applicants ! ” 

He refrained from telling her that there was in his 
service many a child as young as nine years whose 
pitiful lies about being a few years older were con¬ 
scientiously endorsed by the crafty foremen. And also 
did Harry Balster forget the occasional cruel accidents 
to these unfortunate children, caused by the machines 
in his factory. After all, to his superior way of think¬ 
ing, these cases were something for accident insur¬ 
ance and his clever lawyers to settle. 

Visualizing the sad plight of these poor children 
upon whose labor such creatures as Harry Balster 
fattened, caused Dory to experience a vague repulsion 
for this monster and it was concomitant with a strange 
fear. 

He looked at her intensely with half-closed china 
blue eyes, as he batted the white eyelashes and tow¬ 
ered over her — a ludicrous lugubrious giant. 

“ If I might tell you — confess as it were — that 
would help, Dory! It is a personal matter that I’m 
longing to tell you.” 

'The girl cringed from the familiarity of her name 
on his lips, and for that matter she cringed from being 
his confessor. But in the case of human suffering one 
should give help regardless of the individual. “ Oh 
yes, surely — if you wish,” said she. 

“ Well, then,” and he began in a solemn voice, 
“ when I was a lad I came to New York, fresh and 
fine as you are now.” Balster paused, and cast down 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


S3 

his white eyelashes. “ I met a woman. Do you know 
what bad women are, little Doreen? ” 

“ Yes,” said Dory frankly. “ I’ve read of them in 
the Bible and in French novels — I — ” 

“ She was a bad woman,” continued Balster, “ a 
bad woman who was magnificently — alluringly 
dressed and jewelled — just as they are in the novels. 
She appealed to my fine taste — I am refined — I 
can’t help it — that’s the way I am — ” 

This was Mr. Balster’s formula. If anything 
puzzled — annoyed or amused — he would remark, 
“ I don’t understand — I don’t like or I like — I can’t 
help it, that’s the way I am.” This gave him most 
complete satisfaction and to his mind was a complete 
philosophy. 

He put his cigar on a little ivory tray, and leaned 
forward — humping his shoulders, putting his elbows 
on the wide arms of the chair, and clasping his 
hands — “ She made me think she was absolutely 
necessary to me in this foreign New York — I knew 
nothing about big cities. When we appeared together 
in gay restaurants, everybody turned to admire her. 
She made me proud. For it was I who now paid for 
all her gowns and jewels. She had been cast off by 
another man just before I met her, — and the man 
was right to cast her off — ” he added bitterly. 

“Oh — now — poor thing,” sighed Dory instinc¬ 
tively. “ You know, I often feel sorry for bad women. 
My grandmother always had sympathy for poor Mary 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


54 

Magdalen — and so have I — and I used to pray to 
Saint Mary Magdalen — ” 

But Harry Balster was taking another dramatic 
breath in through clinched teeth, and going on with 
his part. “ The other man had sense enough to see 
she was false/’ he added bitterly, “ but I stepped in 
like an innocent lamb. And she wasted money wil¬ 
fully — wantonly — I spent hundreds of thousands 
on her apartment — all the fast set frequented it. I 
paid to be dragged to the gutter — to have my health 
impaired by champagne — a fast set — do you know 
what that means, Dory? ” he inquired as he leaned 
eagerly towards her. 

“ Oh, yes,” again replied Doreen quickly, hoping to 
ward off an explanation. 

“ It means,” continued Mr. Balster heavily, “ that 
all the women are high-class prostitutes, — and any 
women men meet in an apartment of this kind — they 
consider they are at liberty to treat as such.” 

“ Oh, mercy, that’s terrible — it’s like a lion’s den 
— or — ” 

“ Doreen — don’t be frightened,” said he. “ I 
have lived that life of sin with that awful woman up 
till tonight — I, Henry Balster, confess to you, poor 
sweet thing that you are.” 

“ But — ” began Dory. 

He grasped her hand — “ I confess, the woman is 
Bella Sand — and this is the apartment.” The girl 
drew back. She was deathly pale. “ Tonight men 
looked at you and pitied you — thinking you had 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


55 

started in a life of shame because you were here — 
tomorrow they will call — you shall see.” 

Dory sprang away but was caught firmly by the 
frail wrist. 

“ As you value your honor listen to me — we have 
only a few minutes — you have awakened me — 
Doreen — I love you — I can’t see you in this mess — 
your only chance is to come away with me — I know 
you have no money — have no protection. I am 
leaving tomorrow and Mrs. Sand will not have a cent. 
She has squandered everything.” 

“I don’t believe it — I’ll work to help her — I’ll 
work my hands off! ” 

“ Come away with me from this mess, Dory, and 
we’ll lead an honest life, respected by everybody.” 

“ Let me go,” whispered Doreen. Her throat was 
parched. She grasped it tightly. “ Let me go I say! ” 

“ Let you go,” whispered Balster — clutching both 
her hands. “ Don’t cry out — you are a sensible girl, 
let you go into the gutter is what you are asking me. 
I tell you there’s no chance here, no work in New 
York for a beautiful girl without money. You are not 
trained for work — you are up against a stone wall 
— do you understand? I am a rich man — I desire 
you — should have you. You must finally relent. 
It is inevitable. Men will want you — no matter 
what position you take — they will want you. Not 
for your breeding, education, voice, bah! They will 
only want you because you are a beautiful little 


5 6 INVISIBLE WINGS 

animal — with a wonderful mouth. I’m mad about 
you — mad — mad,” he crushed her to him. 

Dory felt like a drowning person in his embrace. 

“Let me go,” she cried, throwing back her head. 
“ Let me go — I don’t believe a word you say against 
Mrs. Sand. Oh! ” 

“ Sh! ” said Harry Balster, releasing her and putting 
an index finger over his mouth he looked cautiously 
around. 

Mrs. Sand stood in the doorway. She went over 
and took Doreen in her arms, and tenderly led her out 
of the room. At the door of the bedroom, Mrs. Sand 
whispered, “ Zoe is asleep — say nothing of this to 
her, dear, go to bed and try to rest,” she pressed her 
arm and looked very sad and very old as she moved 
away. 

Dory turned her lock. Then shivering, she stood 
in the darkness. Her pretty mouth, now contorted 
with disgust, felt dry and parched. But she could not 
moisten it with her tongue — for there was his hor¬ 
rible kiss! The first kiss! that exquisite thing of 
which she had dreamed! But no, she would simply 
not allow it the name. Softly she tiptoed to the bath¬ 
room, snapped on the light, and putting a little 
alcohol in water, bathed her lips. Then with cool 
sweet toilet water, she bathed her pale little face. 
She peered in the mirror, half expected a repellent 
sight. For surely it was the face of a deceitful ad¬ 
venturess! She felt it was not right to sing to him. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


57 


But then, Mrs. Sand herself had insisted. But look¬ 
ing at the thing in a cold true light, she — Dory 
O’Moore — willingly or unwillingly — had harmed 
Mrs. Sand, her best friend’s mother — her own bene¬ 
factress! 

Only to see Zoe for a moment! Surely no one 
needed a friend more than she, just now. And Zoe 
would be very sympathetic. But Mrs. Sand had asked 
her not to say anything. She passed into the bedroom, 
leaving the door half open, and a faint light came 
into the place. She threw herself down on the bed and 
with her face in the pillows thought of that lovely 
mother who had worked for her. Her mother had 
been forced to take the initiative once. How splen¬ 
didly she had risen to it. Her daughter would be 
worthy! Dory straightened and drove back the first 
tear, which seemed to crystallize in a large painful 
lump in her throat. She began to think. Softly she 
tried her door — yes, it was well locked. She arranged 
her altar in the usual way and on her knees she went 
into meditation. After waiting some minutes in silence 
her statuette seemed to give her wisdom. Quite casu¬ 
ally the day before she had found a book which looked 
interesting and she had placed it near her altar. Now 
she fingered over the pages without really looking at 
them. But suddenly concentrating she read: 

“ Through every heart, in spite of its defects and 
failings, back of the personality which may be ob¬ 
noxious, beneath and beyond, is the voice of God 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


58 

speaking. And this voice is the one voice in all, 
making humanity one. 

“ Call it by what name you will, it is a voice which 
speaks where there is none to speak. It is a messen¬ 
ger that comes without form or substance, or it is the 
flower of the soul that has opened. 

“ It speaks from the eyes of the weary toiler or from 
the mouth of the reckless, the profligate, or the fallen 
sister. 

“ Back of every manifestation of life on this plane 
of being stands divinity.” 

Dory had religion of her own, which practically 
consisted of “ Harm no human being in thought, word, 
or deed.” It seemed the conclusion, the epitome of 
the teachings of that greatest of all teachers, Christ. 
This little book made an epoch event in her life. It 
taught her to think for herself. She came to love the 
mysticism of religion with a new love, a different and 
greater appreciation. But she thought for herself as 
she had certainly never been encouraged to do in the 
seminary. 

In her mind marriage seemed the holiest and most 
natural state for a woman. Dory felt that only a 
woman that bears a child, fulfills her destiny. A 
child. Some day she wanted that — wanted to have 
a little child. 

And she wanted to go through life adoring the sun 
of it — basking in it when it shone. For she realized 
that happiness is the light of the spirit, and comes 
from one’s own spirit. Dory had worked out a creed 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


59 


that told her that if she shut happiness out from an¬ 
other only a mockery of its glory would be left her. 
She believed she had unintentionally stood in the light 
of Mrs. Sand. She was the more eager to serve her 
though she knew her own innocence. She whispered, 
“ But oh, God, he is really the giant who is going to 
ruin them — he meant to do that anyway and I must 
help. I bear no grudge against him — I will rise 
above all pettiness.” She felt help would not come 
to her as long as there was enmity in her heart for 
even Balster. She was not trained in any profession. 
What to do? She went over to the window and gazed 
forlornly out. Noiseless automobiles skimmed along 
the gleaming road. One stopped at a palatial door 
up the street. Very solicitously a gentleman helped 
a beautiful cloaked woman up the steps. The first 
floor became flooded with soft light, behind the bro¬ 
caded curtains. The door slammed, then their car, 
snorting a little at first, passed on. Against a crevice 
in a grand church opposite, a man stood crouching. 
A policeman passed, swinging his stick. Then a thin 
woman in shabby clothes turned the corner and, going 
up, spoke to the man. He embraced her, after talk¬ 
ing for some minutes, and then struck her, knocking 
her to the ground. Under the white lamplight her 
face seemed young. After a moment she picked her¬ 
self up, straightened her scrawny feathered hat, and 
saying something over her shoulder to the man, she 
walked unsteadily up the street. Then the man, a 
hollow-chested creature, sunk his hands deep in his 


6o 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


trouser pockets, pulled his cap well over his face, and 
followed sullenly after her. More autos passed and 
again the policeman, still swinging his stick, stalked 
stiffly by. Everything was quiet. 

Dory shuddered. She pressed her face against the 
cool pane, as the pageant of life passed beneath her. 
Dimly, she imagined herself, a part of a monstrous 
something grotesquely out of scale with her own little¬ 
ness. Then more clearly came the thought: 

“ No, it is I who am out of scale. I must be big 
enough to face all these conditions. This is a crisis 
in our lives — the life of poor Mrs. Sand, and Zoe 
and me.” 

Then courage came to Dory. She folded her arms 
and straightened her young shoulders. With a vague 
thrill, she was conscious of the strength and freedom 
of youth. She imagined herself a sculptor who was 
given pure gold to mould what she would of it. And 
she would mould womanhood in its true maternal 
sense. She would be self-supporting, not only a pro¬ 
ductive human being, but a protecting one. She would 
start by caring for Mrs. Sand and Zoe. For were not 
Mrs. Sand and the luxury-loving Zoe to be left desti¬ 
tute? Zoe must be persuaded to go out into the world 
and earn her own living. She would consult Felix 
Strange as to the best course of action. He had been 
like a father to her once, and he would be again. 

A flash of pleasure passed over her, as she thought 
of Jules Blenner knowing Felix. In this way, she 
would see him often, see him very soon again. A 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


61 


sudden feeling of tenderness swept over her as she 
thought of Blenner. Beautiful hopes came and they 
rested her troubled spirit. 

The spell which Jules Blenner had cast! She 
allowed it to surge over her now, like a warm relaxing 
shower. Suddenly she winced as she thought of 
Balster’s threat. “ Those men will call — you shall 
see.” What if Blenner thought that of her! Not 
until this moment did her present position — or lack 
of it — appear in its real light. Ah, if he would only 
wait until she had seen Felix Strange. Felix would 
explain. She shrank from the thought of Jules Blen¬ 
ner not respecting her. But she had no desire to con¬ 
trol the fascination he exercised over her. 

Then abruptly came back the vital question, what 
should she do at once? It seemed to the girl like an 
ominous sentinel standing with a ring of keys, before 
many locked mysterious doors, demanding that she 
instantly choose the right one, on pain of death. Her 
conclusion would open one, and she must enter in the 
dark. 

Once more came the passionate regret that as a 
child she had not been helped to an intelligent use of 
her talent for music. Even if it had only happened 
to be an interest in housework — how fortunate she 
would be now in her hour of need to understand house¬ 
hold economy — dietetics — all the things that would 
make her a skilled worker. “ Oh,” she cried aloud, 
if ever I can get my voice heard in this world, Ill 
shout from the housetops — “ Give each child a real 


62 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


chance in life by giving him or her a trade. Give each 
child a trade or a profession — parents, guardians, t 
teachers — that is your duty! ” 


4 


CHAPTER VII 


I T was late when Mrs. Sand arose next morning. 
After bathing she made up her face, and put on a 
charming kimono of padded white silk, and passed 
into her boudoir. The maid came in softly with break¬ 
fast in a pretty Dresden service. She glanced at her 
mistress respectfully, thinking, “ My, how haggard she 
looks! ” but saying, “ I hope Madame rested well.” 

Coffee aroused Mrs. Sand from the apathy in which 
she had lain all night and she began to think. Similar 
scenes to that of the previous night had taken place 
between her pretty friends and Balster before. She 
had always pretended not to know of any affair. But 
in a clever way, she had disgusted Harry with what¬ 
ever lady he admired and successfully brought him 
to her own feet in a more grovelling state than ever. 
He was like an easily trained baby elephant. 

But this time two things troubled her. One was 
that for Bella Sand, evanescent youth had ceased to 
exist. With horror she had seen its death just under 
her chin a week ago. The other was that in spite of 
her attempt to reason with him and patronize him as 
a middle-aged man making love to her daughter’s 
friend, Harry had left the house last night in a self- 
righteous and almost intelligent mood. She sighed. 
She must try to control her emotions and not weep; 

63 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


64 

she must look as well as possible. He would surely 
telephone. She concentrated all her thoughts on this, 
as it were, mentally compelling him to do so. She 
must have a talk with him. She had confidence in her 
powers. He would apologize, they would go to the 
theatre that night and see something which would 
change his thought. In the meantime, she must send 
Zoe and Doreen to the country until his departure for 
Europe. Two young beauties in the house were enough 
to disturb her Harry. Yes, she would pack them off to 
the country. Then everything would proceed in the 
same old way. 

She thought of Zoe, if she might only marry off 
Zoe. She realized the stuff of which Zoe was made. 
The cautious look of the mother cat came into her 
eyes; a man with force enough to subjugate her,— 
that would mean salvation for her daughter. Jack 
Harrington had force. But Jack was poor, and for 
Bella Sand poverty counteracted any power. Force 
lifts men out of poverty, true; she doubted not that 
Jack Harrington would eventually be a very rich man 
with the proper woman at his side to help — but in 
the meantime? Zoe would never be content to work 
with a man; the child was not trained for that kind 
of thing, thought Mrs. Sand, with a touch of pride. 
And furthermore in that position, she would be unable 
to help her poor old mother, who was now “ on the 
wane.” Mrs. Sand was devoted to this girl and very 
ardently she wished for Zoe a pure upright life — if 
she could get it without any sacrifice. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


65 

Unfortunate, indeed, are those people who are not 
willing to pay for what they want. But “ something 
for nothing ” was Mrs. Sand’s religion. Much as she 
wanted decency, she was unwilling that her child start 
in plain poverty with a man who loved her. This 
great human army of below the well-to-do was nause¬ 
ating to her, however hearts beat in it. Mrs. Sand 
secretly realized that there was no danger of Zoe 
entering that army, and she was going to be made to 
realize it more and more every day. Yet she sighed 
from her innermost depths at the fear which haunted 
her, the fear that her girl would follow in her mother’s 
footsteps. After considering the matter studiously 
she determined to ask Felix Strange, who was one of 
her favorite platonic friends, to find for Zoe, a rich 
husband. Her thoughts returned to Harry Balster. 

At last the telephone bell softly sounded and smiling 
confidently she went to answer. 

“This you, Bella? — Harry talking.” 

“ Hullo, dear boy — now, don’t explain anything — 
I think I understand — you know, dear — I have be¬ 
fore but come up and — ” 

“ Er — just give me your attention, Bella; this is a 
serious matter.” 

“ Why, Harry,” drawled Mrs. Sand laughing. 

“ Don’t interrupt — ” came the dogmatic final 
tones. “ Just listen. Ah — I have written a message 
to you — but have decided it is wiser not to send 
any written philippic. Can you hear quite plainly? ” 

“ Oh, yes, what is it? ” said Mrs. Sand lightly, but 


66 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


she grasped the receiver so that the veins stood out 
cruelly on her hand, and she went very pale. 

“ Very well — I say, this is final, I am through. 
From this day on, as far as you are concerned, Harry 
Balster is dead, no hard feelings, understand, but con¬ 
sider me dead, that’s all.” 

“ Harry,” she cried, “ come to me — at least come 
here and tell me — I can’t bear — ” 

“ I will read this,” came the distinct metallic voice 
through the ’phone. 

“ Whether you listen or not is immaterial. You 
have spent fortunes and I was willing that you should. 
Now, it is over. I know you have letters written when 
I was soft, speaking of marriage. But there’s no 
chance of blackmail here, as you tried in the case of 
young Jandemeer, you are Bella Sand — that’s all I 
have to remind you.” 

“ Oh God! Oh, God — ” cried the woman in 
trepidation. 

But the gruff voice was unrelenting and continued, 
“ If you are a good sport, which is the best you people 
can ever be, you won’t wail, but will realize on your 
jewels, buy a nice little bungalow some place, and 
live peaceably for the rest of your days — or do 
whatever you damn well please. I don’t care; I know 
you have collateral on which you can realize a good 
sum.” 

“ Realize on what? ” she cried. 

“ Your jewels — I said, I have spent nearly a hun¬ 
dred thousand on them. Now, no fireworks please. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 67 

When we meet again it will be in other pathways, this 
chapter is closed. Good-bye.” He had hung up. 

A low cry of pain broke from Bella Sand. Dropping 
to the lounge and dully trying to realize the exact 
meaning, she clasped her throat. Horrible reminis¬ 
cences passed grimly through her brain. All her ugly 
sins marched slowly by to the funeral dirge of her 
present ruin. And infinitely more horrible were the 
forebodings of the future which thronged over her 
head like blinding clouds of smoke. 

How long she remained there she never knew, but 
suddenly she started at the shrill voice of Mrs. Van 
Twiller in the hall. Ambiguously she wondered if 
Sylvia might be trusted. She must talk to someone 
or go mad. 

“ Be—-ella! ” 

Mrs. Sand did not answer for a moment — still 
dazed. 

There was a rustle, a slight perfume. The door 
had opened and Mrs. Van Twiller, nodding a long 
green plume, peeked in coquettishly. “ My, aren’t 
you ready, dearie? Aren’t you going to the morning 
concert at the Plaza? ” Then advancing, she saw the 
glary-eyed creature who sat rigid, like a dead woman, 
and she uttered a little scream. 

“ No acting please, Silvia,” pleaded Bella. The 
blood flushed suddenly in her head as it did lately 
when she became excited: “ No acting, now sit down 
quietly, give me a drink first. I — I have just had 
some upsetting news.” 


68 INVISIBLE WINGS 

“ My,” gasped Silvia after her friend had gulped 
down the brandy. “ You’re pale again now, — I’d 
better call a doctor.” 

“ Please sit down, Silvia, you may console a very 
very weary woman.” 

Silvia groaned imperceptibly at a thought of her 
own. “ This is where Bella asks me for that thousand 
she loaned me, and I cannot possibly get it now,” 
was what went through her head. “ Dearie,” she 
said, “ if there is anything in the world I can do to 
help you, just tell me.” And with a rattle of her 
miniature gold jewelry shop of chains and rings, she 
pressed fervently the thin hand of her friend. 

“ It is all over, Silvia, all over.” 

“ You don’t mean Peter — ” 

“ Ha,” laughed Bella. “ Peter — what is Peter to 
me any more than the rest of them — my little band 
of parlor snakes! Do you think they would care a darn 
about me — robbed of my good — food — my back¬ 
ground? He comes with the crowd — when the crowd 
comes — they follow the sun.” She waved her hand 
about the room. “ Pull away the rose-colored luxury 
and what am I? Now that is over. It is Harry — he 
— he’s left me, Silvia, he’s left me cold.” 

“ Merciful heaven — you don’t mean that — after 
all these years,” said Silvia. “ Isn’t there any settle¬ 
ment? ” 

Bella shook her head. “ Irrevocably ruined,” she 
said. 

Silvia bent forward impulsively, and with a strained 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


69 

theatrical gesture, enveloped Bella in her strong arms. 
Together they gazed out of the window, down the 
oblivious Fifth Avenue. 

“ Why should he make you suffer? ” hissed Silvia 
— “I can’t bear it.” Her eyebrows still raised in an 
expression of pain, she looked towards the brooding 
grey sky, as if she expected an applauding gallery. 
“ Ah — my poor Bella,” she moaned. 

Still no word from Bella, who presently released her¬ 
self and went over to sit on the lounge. The fact of 
her friend’s ruin meant nothing at all to Silvia, who 
could think of no way of getting that money, and she 
could conceive of no other motive for Bella’s confiding 
in her. What was worse, she could think of no legiti¬ 
mate excuse for not returning the money at present. 
She must keep Bella off that subject, in some way, 
else away would go the price of three smart gowns. 

“ You know, dear,” said Silvia, “ we all expected 
any day to hear that you and Harry were married.” 

“ Yes, Silvia, that was my great hope.” 

“ Your hope,” scoffed Silvia. “ Mercy, it would be 
a calamity to be tied up to a thing like that forever. 
You are too superior a woman. There are others,” 
and Silvia nodded her green plume. 

“ No, this was my only hope,” said Bella, in a little 
distant arid voice, which seemed to come from the 
grave. “ There will be no others, Silvia.” 

“ Oh, pooh — ” 

“ When one has greedily made one’s days count 
for twice their length,” continued Bella in the same 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


70 

arid tone, “ one is twice one’s age at forty-five. I 
am forty-five. I know some women are in full bloom 
at my age, ready to meet the difficult parting of the 
ways. Ready to meet the strange nerve-racking, the 
mental fever of a journey across an abyss. They take 
it victoriously. Maybe it leaves them on a new road.” 

Silvia sighed genuinely this time. Last month had 
marked her own forty-first birthday — no one knew 
it of course, and she thought no one would ever sus¬ 
pect. But again she sighed. “ Bella is a good talker,” 
she thought, “ always gets poetic when she’s blue, does 
the ‘ sad little woman act ’ better than anyone I ever 
knew. It’s most depressing, but it’s probably brought 
a large part of her success with men.” 

Mrs. Sand studied a beautiful pastel over her head. 
“ See that picture, Silvia? ” 

“ Yes, dearie, why? ” 

“ You see the woman reaching from the little canoe 
for the water lily. It is just out of touch like the allure 
an old woman tries for. There comes the day when 
the flower of attraction is just impossible to touch. 
This is that tragic day for me, Silvia. My youth and 
attraction are gone — gone! ” The first tear appeared 
in Bella Sand’s eyes and she buried her head as the 
sobs shook her violently. 

Some minutes passed before the storm of weeping 
ceased, and Silvia quietly opened her vanity case, ab¬ 
sorbed the tear which threatened to spoil her newly 
blackened eyelashes, pulled down her mouth, rouged 
it carefully, powdered her nose, and then peered 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


7 i 


earnestly into the little mirror. “ Forty-two/’ she 
thought. “ No one would think it of me,” she reiter¬ 
ated. “ I will take good care of myself — I must 
never be broken like poor Bella, I will never waste 
my good healthy energy! ” Then, communion with 
herself over, she noiselessly closed the little vanity 
case, and went over to the couch. She took the deeply- 
veined hand tightly within her own. “ There, dear, 
you have cried long enough now, but it has made you 
feel better I know.” She bathed her lace handker¬ 
chief in some perfume from an ivory and gold bottle 
and placed it across Bella’s eyes. 

“ Silvia, I want you to help me — I want to 
talk — ” began Bella. “ You are here with me at the 
funeral of my youth.” 

“ Now see here, dear — it’s all right — this ‘ youth’s 
gone ’ stuff — but it’s all nonsense, as you know.” 

Mrs. Sand straightened. “ Don’t play to me, Silvia, 
the fact is that — that in old age one is forgotten — 
only youth is marketable.” 

“ Well, if you insist upon this,” acquiesced her 
friend, “ it may be true, but this ‘ poverty stuff ’ for 
you don’t go — you know as well as I do — you have 
other youth to market.” 

“What do you mean?” ejaculated Mrs. Sand. 

Silvia fixed her with a cold brazen stare. “ Zoe and 
Dory O’Moore,” she said. 

“ Silvia! ” Mrs. Sand’s lips curled in disdain. “ My 
daughter is beautiful; she will marry a rich husband 
in time! ” 


72 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ Oh yes/’ responded Silvia, stiffening. “ 1 wish you 
luck.’’ 

“ You don’t think for a moment I would have de¬ 
signs on two young girls — that I would allow my 
daughter — ” 

“ To follow in the footsteps of her mother — ” 
added Silvia, affecting a very cultured tone, then she 
threw her arm over the back of the chair, leaned for¬ 
ward facing the grief-stricken woman with her brazen 
eyes. “ Now I’m going to tell you something, Bella,” 
her voice became hoarse and tired. In truth, so moved 
was Silvia that she was allowing herself to express 
what was really in her mind. “ Zoe is her mother’s 
daughter in every way — only more so. She has her 
own scheme of life already doped out, the fruit of her 
vacations at home. She’s had affairs with different 
men around here from the time she was sixteen, and 
she has colossal vanity. In this scheme of hers, hus¬ 
bands or holy poverty or anything else holy, plays no 
part — that was all gladly left behind in the convent, 
and don’t you forget it, and this girl Dory O’Moore 
is her inseparable — she may be all right — she has 
had no vocation, but it’s a cinch she must soon be 
the same thing as Zoe. Now, perhaps the husband 
will come — perhaps not. But in the meantime you 
won’t want for money if you’re genial and take things 
as they will inevitably come to these two kids. So 
better make up your mind to grow old pleasantly and 
realize that even a mother can’t grow oranges in a 
Maine cabbage patch. A potato seed grows a potato.” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


73 


Silvia contracted her brows, bit her lip, and flung her 
cigarette on a little amber tray. “ Train them up not 
to hold themselves cheap, Bella — that’s the best ad¬ 
vice I can give you — don’t permit a lot of these Jack 
Harrington-Jules Blenner hangers on.” 

“ Please, Silvia.” Mrs. Sand crouching against her 
pillow had not the strength to answer — indeed did 
not even attempt it — she told herself she considered 
Silvia abysmally stupid and sordidly immoral — a 
woman who could not conceive a respectable motive 
in anyone. There was no use expecting anything else 
from the poor thing. 

Now Mrs. Sand was a curious combination. Funda¬ 
mentally she was intelligent and normally good. 
Superficially she was selfish and abnormally bad. 
She gloried in getting something for nothing. After 
the life behind her the superficial side of the woman 
was of course the positive side and came to the front 
now and she secretly hoped Silvia was right. For she 
seemed to see Dory and Zoe throwing her the lines of 
riches and power which she would grasp avidly rather 
than sink in the repellent sea of poverty. 

Silvia glanced at her diamond wrist watch. “ I 
really must run, Bella, I forgot — lunch engagement, 
you’d no idea what chic people you meet at these stage 
women’s meetings and everybody’s in the sister line 
— old fashioned ideas and all that! Now buck up, 
old girl. I wish I had this wonderful place of yours 
and these two beautiful girls on my hands — catch me 
worrying about an old fathead like Harry.” Mrs. 


i 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


74 

Sand silenced her friend with the majesty of her glance, 
rose from the sofa and went over to her. 

“ Silvia, I must move at the end of the month.” 

“ But the furniture, all this beautiful furniture, 
dearie.” 

“ It is to be sent to Harry., It is his and he in¬ 
sists upon having it, he told me last night.” 

“ Well, the old beast — I just wouldn’t give it to 
him! ” Silvia batted her eyelids, and folded her arms 
in righteous wrath. 

“ You don’t know Harry when he wants anything. 
He will have this furniture. It is in his name. He 
says I must realize on my jewels.” 

“ Well,” said Silvia, much relieved at this new 
source of income from her friend, “ thank God they 
are good for a pile that will keep you always. You 
seem to want the simple country life, and that’s a 
consolation, dear, perhaps it’s a good thing just now, 
till you’re stronger.” 

Bella Sand tottered. “ Oh, Silvia,” she whispered, 
“ it is just that I — the jewels — I have had them 
all duplicated in paste — that is why I am ruined. 
You see — I — I have burned all my bridges.” 

“ Bella, you never did such a shiftless thing as that! 
I never would have believed — ” 

The two women sat down holding each other’s hands, 
Bella’s brain a hopeless blank. But Silvia’s was filled 
with ominous fears. For she too had duplicated all 
her jewels in paste. Only last week, she sold Bill’s 
large solitaire, which he said had belonged to his 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


75 


mother. It had paid an extra milliner’s bill. What if 
there should come a time when she too was in a posi¬ 
tion of this kind? Silvia was deeply affected. She 
was worried about herself. 

“ Bella,” she said, “ I never realized how foolish 
this kind of thing really is, until this moment. I — I 
have done the same thing, even Bill’s ring,” she held 
out her finger and the stone gleamed in the dim light. 
“ It is paste.” 

Mrs. Sand scarcely seemed to hear — she patted 
Silvia’s hand absently, realizing the thousand she had 
loaned was beyond recalling, and the futility of asking 
for it. 

“ I never knew you needed money, Bella — 
Harry — ” 

“ Yes, yes, Harry gave me everything — he was 
lavish,” said Bella, “ but he would draw the line at 
certain places — by way of discipline. 4 Wilful waste 
makes woeful want,’ he would say in his bourgeois way 
and that aphorism always enraged me. My whims 
were my only gods. Ah, Silvia, as I look back on my 
life it has been absolutely fantastic, and it all seems 
very long ago, very strange and unreal. I sold my 
jewels one by one for secret trips — trips with these 
people — extra gowns — gowns which I did not need 

— trifles — always ephemeral things. There was a 
curious joy in the deception. I don’t know if you can 
understand that, Silvia. I loved — Jack Vandemus 

— as you know. That period of my life was a happy 
one and I thank God for it—I never deceived Jack 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


76 

but he threw me over. Harry meant nothing to me. 
Like most men he had faith in the power of material 
possessions to attract women. I loved to deceive him, 
I never thought Bella Sand would see the day it would 
all be forced down her throat as it is now. Ugh! 
How ugly! ” She went over to a little inlaid cabinet 
and taking out a crystal bottle and glass poured her¬ 
self a drink. “ Join me, Silvia? ” 

Mrs. Van Twiller rose gradually. “ Ah, Bella,” 
she said. “ This stuff is the curse — you know as 
well as I — it is the thing that takes youth — the 
thing that drags one to the gutter,” and Silvia towered 
over poor Bella Sand, with hand upraised, impersonat¬ 
ing the demon rum. 

Bella continued drinking making a wry face after 
each gulp. At any other time she would have taken 
her cue and acted just as well and falsely as her friend 
agreeing with her, entirely, and waiting until her de¬ 
parture for the drink. Now she shiftlessly responded, 
“ If I ever needed a drink I need it now — I have a 
dreadful headache — Furthermore this is no ‘home 
brew ’ — it’s good old pre-war, ‘ deerie,’ so fear not, 
(while it lasts!).” 

“ It is momentary comfort, Bella, and I beg of you 
not to take it, dear. It is ruin, ruin, ruin, that’s all.” 
Silvia would have her scene! 

“ You look pretty seedy today yourself. Silvia, a 
little drink will do you good.” This speech brought 
Mrs. Van Twiller back to herself quite suddenly. 

“ Well, how can I help it, if I look seedy — after 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


77 


you’ve upset me so, Bella? ” she whispered. A large 
tear appeared, and she let it roll demolishingly down. 
“ After all I’m nothing but a pauper myself,” and 
giving away to her grief, and forgetting entirely her 
sermon, Silvia went to the cabinet and poured a drink 
nearly filling the glass with Scotch. Then the two 
fading friends, Mrs. Van Twiller with gay green 
feather sadly nodding and Mrs. Sand, with rich 
kimono falling away at the knees disclosing two little 
feet desolately turned in, sat close together for some 
time, crying and sipping. 


CHAPTER VIII 


D ORY opened tired eyes, and leaned her head on 
her elbow. She still seemed to feel Balster’s 
obnoxious caress. The clock had struck five 
before she slept. Then she had dreamed only exquisite 
dreams — about Jules Blenner. Indeed her mind was 
still warm and nebulous from them. The grey cold 
light of a winter morning appeared showing distinctly 
the outlines of things in a real world. 

“Mercy! I should have been thinking of busi¬ 
ness,” sighed the girl. She leaned her head to the 
side like a listening canary bird. No sound of any¬ 
body being up, yet there seemed about the place a 
hushed atmosphere of tumult. 

She bathed quickly feeling all the muscles contract 
as she awakened. “ I can’t think here.” She longed 
to steal out to mass. This, of course, was the habit 
of a life-time. Mass — amid mellow colors streaming 
in through Gothic windows, — incense, — and the 
tones of the organ, there she could kneel and meditate. 
She wanted to see the faces of the congregation under¬ 
go the charming change which comes over faces under 
the influence of the church’s mysticism. She wanted 
to feel herself being carried away above with them 
in the flow of spiritual thought. It was that need of 
supernatural help which comes to people when in 

78 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


79 


trouble. Hunger did not help Dory’s mental attitude. 
But she feared to venture into the dining-room. The 
little enamel bell at her bed meant nothing to the girl. 
She decided to stand at the door and eventually a 
servant would pass along the hall. 

The maid knocked and entered. “ A gentleman to 
see Miss O’Moore.” On a little ivory platter was a 
card saying: 

“ Mr. Jules Saxon Blenner (with a message from 
Felix Strange).” 

In terror Dory leapt onto the bed with one bound 
and called Zoe. 

“ Oh, are you hurt — what is it? ” Then Zoe saw 
the card. She enigmatically raised her brows with a 
special expression. Then — “ What a funny hour to 
call — half past ten in the morning! ” she said. 

“ Yes — I know,” gulped Dory. “ I won’t see him 
— I — ” Dory was clasping her hands to her heart 
as she spoke. 

“ Why, of course you will,” drawled Zoe. “ It’s too 
exciting. I wish Jack would come. Miss O’Moore 
will receive the gentleman in the library,” announced 
Zoe to the maid. 

“ You know,” she confided to Dory, “ They don’t 
care what hour they call — when they’re in love. I 
have an engagement to lunch with Jack at a cute 
restaurant down town. There, that is my secret. 
I’m pretending to go over to Ann’s, so she must be in 
the secret too. Dory, don’t gape so, dear — if you 
keep him waiting too long he’ll think something funny 
is the matter.” 


.8o 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


You may be sure Dory had no desire to have things 
appear any funnier than they were. Automatically 
she took a little coil of soft auburn hair out and patted 
it on her cheek. Then suddenly she stopped and 
grasped her breast and bent her head with the charm¬ 
ing listening attitude which, when a child, caused 
people to nickname her “ Dove.” 

“ I hear my heart beating so, Zoe — do people die 
of palpitation — I have it now. Jules Blenner. 
Jules Saxon Blenner! Is that what it says? ” 

“ My, you’re fussed,” laughed Zoe. “ Here’s a nice 
flower, pin it on and hurry. I’d like to hear about it 
before I start.” 

With trembling fingers Dory pinned the dahlia on 
her black dress, so near the supple white throat that 
its color was reflected on the shining skin. 

Then Zoe, in high excitement, pushed her out into 
the hall, assuring her she was perfectly beautiful. 

On the threshold Dory hesitated a moment, then she 
caught sight of Blenner from the door of the salon. 
He stood looking out of the window of the little 
library. His black hair looked as if it has been 
polished, the high lights emphasized the fine moulding 
of his head. His blue suit fitted his slight figure per¬ 
fectly as he stood with chest in and shoulders drooping 
a bit. 

It was so peaceful and cozy in there! One of those 
rooms which looked as if it had existed and would 
exist forever. Beneath the low ivory colored mantel 
burned a softly crackling fire at which Nini, the 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


81 


yellow Angora sinuously warmed her soft fur. Lux¬ 
uriously filled book-shelves lined the lower wall. 
Above them were soft brown hangings, and the com¬ 
fortable chairs were covered in woven gold and black. 
Near the fire was a charming round table of the 17th 
century upon which were some fragrant yellow roses 
in an ancient blue jar which had once belonged to 
Anne of Brittany and near it was an exquisitely bound 
volume bearing the crown and porcupine of Louis 
XII. Collecting rare editions which in reality he knew 
nothing and cared nothing about was one of Harry 
Balster’s affectations. At the window, framed in its 
golden drapery, the smoke of his cigarette curling 
about him as he looked out into the damp greyness of 
the January morning, was Jules. 

For some moments more Dory stood silently on the 
threshold, regarding it all with trembling lips and 
brown brooding eyes. A wave of tenderness for him 
passed over her — transfigured her. Suddenly the 
man thrust his hands in his pockets impatiently and 
turned. 

“ Good morning! ” said Dory hurriedly. 

“ Oh, good morning, Miss O’Moore, I didn’t hear 
you coming — I say, you must think it strange my 
calling at this hour. “ But,” he continued with his 
charming smile, “ Felix said I must deliver this mes¬ 
sage personally — and I of course was delighted. You 
see I am to tell you that he is ill, not seriously, but 
ill, and unable to meet you at luncheon. You see 
Mrs. Strange is in Newport so there is no way for 


82 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


you to lunch at home with him.” He smiled again, 
draping her with a solicitous admiring look from his 
grey eyes. 

Neither spoke for an embarrassing moment. 

“ Aren’t you going to bid me sit down? ” he asked. 

“ Oh, pardon,” said Dory in high confusion. She 
lifted a huge armchair and would have borne it nearer 
the fire. But he took it away from her — their hands 
touched — a fleeting moment. p 

“ Are you really very sorry I came, Miss O’Moore 

— as sorry as you look?” he asked as they were 
seated at either side of the crackling wood. 

Dory smiled rather foolishly. 

“ You smile with your lips,” said Jules as he bent 
towards her, “ but your eyes are inexpressibly sad.” 

“ Oh, I’m sorry, sorry about my expression I mean.” 

“ Felix charged me to say that if there is anything 
you need — especially that thing that paupers are 
so munificent about — advice, you are to ask me. I 
am as good at advice as Felix is at practical aid. 
I can’t afford real aid to anybody — I wish I could.” 

Dory raised her eyebrows, and bent her head until 
her delicate nose touched the yellow dahlia. “ Thanks 

— so much,” she responded faintly. Blushing out¬ 
rageously did not help her situation in the least. 

“ Felix said, you were to trust me,” added Jules 
in a sing-song voice, and he imitated a shy child with 
an innocent little moue. Then they both burst out 
laughing, and all confusion fled from Dory. 

“ You played so well last night,” she said, at last, 


INVISIBLE WINGS 83 

“ I want to thank you for it again. It is a great 
pleasure for me to hear such playing.” 

“ Oh thanks, do you mind if I smoke? ” He lighted 
a cigarette and leaned back, still looking steadfastly at 
the girl. “ I play especially well when I feel some 
sympathetic presence in the room and I felt it last 
night.” He leaned forward again, holding the cig¬ 
arette in his muscular fingers, allowing the violet 
smoke to encircle his dark head. “ I felt it — in you 
— so you see the thanks are all on my side.” 

Dory’s lips quivered and smiled appreciation; she 
told him about the effect his playing had upon other 
people in the room, and for a while they talked of 
music. Dory proved to be quite “ au courant ” and 
her intelligent appreciation charmed Blenner. 

“ Do you sing anything by Tschaikowsky,” he 
asked. 

“ Yes — ‘ A qui brula d’amour,’ but . . .” 

“ Please do — now — just softly, I will play it for 
you.” 

“ I haven’t much of a voice,” said Dory. “ I 
haven’t really.” 

“ I don’t believe it,” he replied, “ but even if you 
have not you would interpret like an artist — which 
is much more important — come.” 

Dory shook her head and putting out her graceful 
hand with a charming indolent movement, started to 
arrange the yellow roses in the blue bowl. There be¬ 
hind it, was a picture of Balster. Fear came suddenly 
into her eyes — suppose he should come back to have 
a last scene — suppose — 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


84 

“ Oh, I can’t sing this morning,” she gasped spas¬ 
modically. I . . . I . . 

Blenner noticed her quick change to pallor. He 
threw his cigarette into the fire — went over and stood 
near her. “ I know you have something to ask,” he 
whispered, “ if you don’t wish to trust me, write it 
to Felix now — and I will take the note at once.” 

“ I do need advice,” she whispered, “ and I must 
have it right away.” 

Jules started to take the lovely trembling hand in 
his, but quickly drew back, remembering Felix’s 
warning:—“She is a gentlewoman, not one of the 
Sand crowd.” 

“ Will you believe that you may have confidence in 
me? ” There was something in his low languid voice 
that was almost hypnotic. It calmed and reassured 
at once. “ I am a stranger to you, Miss O’Moore, but 
if you have the woman’s intuition you will understand 
my feelings — and — ” he smiled again, inclining his 
head quite near her as he added softly, “ and not be 
frightened.” 

“ I have confidence in you — I feel — you are my 
friend.” 

“ You know,” he said, “ Felix is very worried about 
you, naturally being here with Mrs. Sand. That’s 
what you want to talk about, isn’t it? ” 

Dory winced. “ You don’t think Mrs. Sand is bad, 
do you? ” she whispered. Jules raised his eyebrows 
in helpless interrogation: 

“ Do you? ” he asked. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 85 

“ No, but I know the world does — I know all 
about it — the condition — her — and everything — 
but listen, last night — ” and Dory recounted the con¬ 
versation between Balster and herself. She imitated 
Balster exactly. “ You see the point,” she concluded, 
“ this horrible old thing thinks he is too good to 
marry her. But he enticed her into living this way — 
promising always that some day — don’t you know 
— he could bring himself to make her his wife. Poor 
dear — I feel that Fate has always been against her. 
You know . . .” Dory turned her flower-like face 
towards and near him, “ Fate might be dead against 
any of us. The flesh is weak, as the Bible says. I 
saw her poor sad face and all the suffering of her 
tired spirit and I want so much to help make this 
easy for her — ” she added raising her brows, — 
“ but, perhaps you have no sympathy because the 
world calls her a ‘ bad woman.’ ” 

“ No, I too am sorry for Mrs. Sand. She will miss 
all this luxury terribly — Balster is a rotter . . .” 

“ And then,” continued Dory, “ I . . . I . . . was 
terrified with what he said about ‘ men will call ’ . . . 
and . . .” 

Jules Blenner frowned, turned nervously in the 
chair, — “ Sure enough, one did this morning, that’s 
why you acted so strange at first ... he smiled very 
tenderly — “ but you understand now . . .” he sighed, 
and lighted another cigarette. “ It is an awful mess,” 
he said. “ You say you must make your living and 
start at once. Miss O’Moore, the best way to do that 


86 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


is to be helped financially . . . but not by a man,” 
he added quickly. “ That is my first and most im¬ 
portant advice. Promise me one thing — you will 
never allow a man to help you with money. No matter 
how friendly he may seem. It is . . .” 

Dory looked so strangely at him — he seemed to 
finish his sentence by thought transference. 

“ These are the things I can do,” said the girl, “ to 
make my own living. I can sew and embroider, I 
can sing and play the piano fairly well. Of course I 
feel I could do best on the stage. I love it, and one 
can rise slowly — I know. My mother was on the 
stage. I am willing to devote my life to it.” Dory 
looked appealingly at him. “ But you know, Mr. 
Blenner, I have no stage training — and you know 
unless one is high up on the stage one is declasse.” 

A glint of cynicism sharpened Jules’ dark-lashed 
eyes. “ Yes, Miss O’Moore,” he said, “ one is as 
declasse as a cook as one is as a chorus girl — and 
vice versa, declasse also is the saleslady, the telephone 
operator, the factory girl, in other words, in all reason¬ 
able ways of making a poor honest living, one is con¬ 
stantly in danger of the 1 man higher up ’ — who 
generally takes the form of a hawk. There is no 
preference except that the most independent of these 
callings, the most lucrative and respected, is that of 
the cook.” 

The girl listened pensively to him with a little wan 
smile. She was thinking that Zoe would unquestion¬ 
ably go on the stage as she had often said she wanted 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


87 

to, and it would be best for them to go together. They 
could help and protect each other, and both could 
protect Mrs. Sand. 

“ The actual solution,” came Jules’ quick staccato 
voice, “ would be for some wealthy woman philan¬ 
thropist to back you. Most philanthropists — these 
days are sort of money lenders. They get all the 
credit for charity — but there is generally some stipu¬ 
lation that they will be paid back with interest when 
the prodigy succeeds. So don’t think it charity I am 
suggesting, Miss O’Moore. If someone like that 
would back you, say in a kindergarten, or studio for 
music lessons to beginners. Or,” he continued, touch¬ 
ing the tops of his fingers together and raising his 
eyebrows — “ you might be a private secretary to a 
lady, but ladies never want beautiful young private 
secretaries. I’m afraid there’s no opening there. 
Now if I only had money. But I have not even made 
my official debut yet, I just go around unknown towns 
giving concerts for which my manager gets most the 
cash, and having my compositions that I slave so 
over, refused. Nobody understands them. My dad 
does not believe in backing me — though he’s very 
rich. But you are not listening to a word I say . . .” 

“ I think you were saying that I must not accept 
money from any man but you ”... laughed Dory 
softly. 

Already the girl was being brought to realize that 
man protects a woman he loves with all his might 
against everything in the world — except himself. 


88 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ Unfortunately I must leave tomorrow for a con¬ 
cert tour of the West,” said Jules. He leaned forward 
and seemed to enwrap the girl with a soft veil of ten¬ 
derness from his eyes. “ I don’t want to go . . . 
because of — you! ” 

Dory examined her flower assiduously. Both were 
silent while Jules lighted still another cigarette. 

“ How fascinating he is,” thought Dory. “ How 
he must affect the women of his audience.” She re¬ 
membered with a pang the musicians who used to give 
recitals occasionally at Chateauden, the girls’ wild 
adoration for them and the panegyrics they could 
deliver on their personal charms. Musicians seemed 
to be a race in themselves, apart. They seemed to like 
all this adulation, to accept it as their divine right. 
Dory sighed. Perhaps it was unfortunate to love one? 
But could that be helped now? ” 

“ I shall not be gone very long — ” he was saying. 
“ Not any longer than I must and may I write — so 
you won’t forget me entirely? ” When that was 
settled with few words and much meaning — 

“ Perhaps when you come back all this will have 
vanished,” said Dory waving her hand to indicate the 
room. “ You must promise me one thing, whatever 
happens, — we shall all probably be in some ugly 
place after this . . . promise . . . you will never let 
anyone say anything mean against Mrs. Sand. I 
know her to be kind and sweet. She would have been 
a sort of good mother to me.” 

“ That is all you have to say — I am for her,” said 
Jules. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


89 

“ Just remember that circumstances have been 
against her,” continued Dory. “ She is brave and 
will come through this misfortune like a queen and 
Zoe and I will help — and you and Felix may too.” 

He came and stood close to her. “ You may count 
on me — always. People say all kinds of things about 
Mrs. Sand, but I believe it is not up to us mortals 
to judge her. She has been kind to you, that shows 
her goodness. I must go now, but soon I’ll return to 
you, for I have met someone — necessary to me as 
music, — belonging to the harmony of my life.” 
His voice dropped so low and became so soft it was 
almost a caress. “ Will you take very good care of 
that someone — for me? ” 

The girl started and drew back. 

“ I’m sorry,” he said very quietly — “ but I had to 
tell you — that you have a most respectful idolator 
in me. This you surely understand.” 

“ Why do you say that? ” asked Dory. Henry 
Balster’s gruesome prophecy rushed across her mind. 
“ Why do you say that? ” 

But his frank low voice was reassuring. 

“ Why do you let your soul shine through your 
eyes? ” he touched the yellow flower with his finger. 
“ Give me this,” he said, “ to say you will write and 
confide in me, and not forget — will you — if you 
can? ” 

Slowly the little lovely flower was drawn forth like 
a golden answer. Taking her hand which held it, in 
both his own, he kissed the soft petals, as he looked 
far into Dory’s questioning eyes. 


go 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


The girl trembled with the exquisite thrill of con¬ 
tact but the next moment her blood ran cold. For in 
the doorway, stood Mrs. Sand in a white kimono fall¬ 
ing away at the silk-stockinged lace-beruffled knees, 
and Mrs. Van Twiller grinning maudlinly with a green 
feather over the side of her ear. There they stood, 
holding each other up very unsuccessfully. 

If Dory could have seen anything save the unques¬ 
tionably dilapidated condition of her benefactress, 
whom she had just championed so successfully, — she 
would have perceived Jules’ painfully suppressed 
laughter at this familiar sight. But he immediately 
went towards Mrs. Sand, with hand outstretched. 
“ How do you do, Bella? ” 

The lady drew herself up haughtily, at the same 
time drawing her hand back in a spectacular manner. 
“ I should shink you would be ashamed to speak to — 
to me — ” she said blinking her darkened eyelashes 
furiously . . . “ after what I just saw — how dare 
you make love to Miss O’Moore — how dare you — 
I shay! ” 

Here Mrs. Van Twiller, apparently in a much less 
dogmatic mood, interrupted: “ Oh — Be-ella — ish all 
right, — no harm done — they’re young,” and she 
grinned benignly with watery eyes at the petrified 
Dory. “ Kittens mush play,” she added, in a melli¬ 
fluous voice — “ Kittens mush play. Doncher know 
Herford says: ‘ Silvia waved her finger — 5 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


9i 


“ ‘ Gather kittens while ye may 
Time brings only sorrow — 

An’ the kittens of to-day- 

Will be old cats to-morrow.’ ” 

Mrs. Sand swept her away with a gesture, and sup¬ 
ported herself on the heavy curtain. “ Jules Blenner,” 
she said, swaying a little with the curtain, “ the man 
that lays a hand on my daughter — or my adopted 
daughter ” — she indicated Dory solemnly and nodded 
her little head ominously as she looked at Jules out of 
half-closed eyes — “ hash to answer — to me.” 

Straightening his shoulders Jules spoke very quietly, 
attempting to subjugate her wtih the stern tones of 
his voice. “ Bella, you have misunderstood — believe 
me — you must think how embarrassing this is for 
your friend — for Miss O’Moore.” 

“ I want — eh — you to understand,” continued 
Mrs. Sand regally gathering up her kimona so as to 
cover herself, but in reality there was a ludicrous ex¬ 
pose — directoire fashion — from the other side, 
“ that my children are always to be ch-chaperoned — 
when you call — I shall ch-ch-chaperon, of course, 
these two young ladies — it is proper — absolutely 
proper — they be ch-ch-chaproned — no matter what 
they say about me — Jules.” Here the sharp little 
nostrils dilated and her scant bosom rose and fell 
quickly, “ no one will be able to shay — a — a — 
snap of the finger — about these young ladies.” 

Here Mrs. Van Twiller picked her way across the 
room, and stood near Mrs. Sand. “ O, Be-ella,” she 




92 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


drawled, feeling it her duty to humor her poor help¬ 
less friend, “ we know they’re ladies.” She grinned 
and made a weak, wide sweep of the hand — “ We’re 
all ladies.” She bowed towards Jules, laying hand 
daintily on chest, and nearly losing her balance, 
“ ’Cept Mr. Blenner.” She threw back her head and 
straightened the green feathered creation which 
quickly fell back out of place over her ears. She 
nodded her head and raised her eyes piously. “ God 
shave us from lady-like musicians,” she laughed, and 
closed her eyes, still laughing at her great joke. 
“ You’ll never be one of those, Jules.” 

“ Not a sn-snap of the finger,” reiterated Mrs. Sand 
severely oblivious of previous remarks, and so saying 
she sank into a chair. Then she looked solemnly and 
severely at Mr. Blenner, who, much relieved to note 
that the doorway was now clear, took a hasty de¬ 
parture, feeling it the very kindest thing to do for the 
sake of Dory. 


CHAPTER IX 


A MONTH later, the scene of these lives had 
changed, and truly fate is a skillful scene 
shifter. In the life story of the Sands and 
Dory, fate had cleared the stage of every trace of 
luxury in less than no time, and they found themselves 
in an ugly set of screaming red flowered wall paper, 
stove pipes, clattering dishes, in a boarding house, run 
by a sharp-eyed woman who seemed to suffer from 
ossification of the facial expressions. And she was a 
Medusa with the power of turning impecunious 
boarders to stone. I trust you do not know the kind. 

Friends fled like magic. Of course they are such 
poor actors on a poverty-stage set, it is just as well 
they are so scarce. “ Friends,” sighed Bella Sand 
one evening as the two girls sat sewing on the shabby 
white iron bed, “ they are people who are kind to you 
in order that they may get something out of you.” 

But Dory leaned over and pressed her hand. 
“ Don’t you believe I am a real friend? ” 

Leaning her head on an emaciated arm, Bella Sand 
regarded the girl. 

“ Yes,” she answered. “ You are one. One friend 
I have.” 

“ I suppose that’s what makes people talk about 
friendship so much,” remarked Zoe. “ Friends are so 


93 


94 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


precious rare, — like diamonds — you’re the real dia¬ 
mond to me all right, Dory.” 

“ Of course if Felix were able he would help us! ” 
sighed Zoe. “ But isn’t it my Irish luck for him to 
have brain fever and be cooped up in a sanatorium 
just now — heaven only knows when he’ll be out.” 

“ Poor Felix, I hope and pray he will get better 
soon, — we have no one now — and Jules Blenner and 
Jack Harrington away,” added Dory. 

“ Dear children,” said Mrs. Sand, and her blowsy 
eyes told too plainly the fact that she had consumed a 
pint of whiskey before, and in place of dinner. “ Dear 
children, Felix may die of this brain fever and as for 
those two boys, — they are as poor as church mice — 
don’t think for a minute they can help us! ” 

“ Oh, but they would help us with — with advice 
— and — and — sympathy,” said Dory, “ we ” — 
and the proud lips curved into a smile — “ Zoe and I 
are going to earn money to help ourselves! ” 

The sadness of this was too much for Mrs. Sand. 
Tears swelled up in her throat. “ I never thought 
I’d see the day my child would have to earn her own 
living,” she sighed. “ One disgrace after another 
seems to be heaped upon me, heaped upon my poor 
heart.” 

“ But it isn’t a disgrace to earn your own living,” 
responded Dory. “ I — I think there is something 
noble about it. I’m sorry I wasn’t trained for it — 
we both like the stage, Zoe and I — but we have no 
training, you see so we’ll have to start from the very 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


95 

bottom, perhaps in the chorus just as if we were 
people of inferior brains, but it will be interesting — 
really exciting — ” 

“ Just the same,” piped up Zoe, “ the first rich man 
I can get to marry me — you bet I’ll be ‘ Mrs. What- 
ever-his-name-is ’ right away quick! ” 

“ Mommie’s Baby,” cooed the consoled mother. 

It was agreed that Dory was to go in search of a 
position on the stage for both girls, since Zoe didn’t 
have the “ nerve.” 

Now for a month, the poor girl had sought work 
every day. The Broadway managers whom she saw, 
told her that small parts were for novices who could 
live without salaries, dress like royalty and perhaps 
even put their own money into the show. They asked 
enigmatic questions — “ Have you a backer?” — 
“ Could you care for me ” — and had made many sug¬ 
gestions. One in desperation had advised Dory to “ go 
back to the farm.” 

Finally, after weary search, the manager of The 
Bilbur Opera Company had welcomed Dory — be¬ 
cause of having known her mother and for her own 
beauty, and accepted Zoe too for her “ chic ” — and 
had given both girls a place in the chorus of his 
“ show,” to go on the road, their stage clothes and 
travelling expenses paid, and sixteen dollars a week. 

This delighted Dory and contented Zoe, as Dory 
assured her they’d have lots of fun in the chorus. 
Dory said they would allow themselves eight dollars a 
week apiece, and each send eight dollars to Mrs. Sand. 


96 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


At ten o’clock next morning the two girls went to 
their first rehearsal. 

It was held in a large, long room, over a saloon on 
Lexington Avenue. Its dirty dark walls had various 
names and remarks scratched on them. Near the 
three windows which faced on a dismal street, was 
an upright piano and around it were several kitchen 
chairs and several dusty benches. At the other side, 
a rail protected the little staircase that emitted an 
odor of “ beers ” and sausages and led down to the 
saloon. The two lovely girls leaned against it, and 
looked with interest at the dark red brown door on 
the other side of the room. It was the street entrance, 
and it surely admitted many strange weird figures. 

A tall thin man appeared, with fair hair, very red 
eyelids and over-brilliant large green eyes. He looked 
around with an air of importance and disdain. Then, 
jerking his limbs, he went over to the window, took 
off his hat, coat, collar and waistcoat and put them 
all on the piano. That was evidently his domain. 
He tried over many songs, nervously putting in varia¬ 
tions and scales, and always ending with four or five 
flamboyant chords. His name was Mr. Casey, the 
orchestra leader. 

There was a short young man, well proportioned, 
and very neat. The thick, colorless hair was brushed 
off the side of his energetic little head. His face was 
pale and he had kindly, rather small blue eyes — a 
nice smile and gold filled teeth. He wore a trim grey 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


97 


suit, trim stub-toed shoes, and a jerky red tie. Tak¬ 
ing out a notebook he started to turn over the pages 
with a hand, all of whose fingers were half cut off, 
and later he called the roll. He proved to be Mr. 
Bradley, the stage manager. 

There were thirty in the chorus, twenty women, 
ten men. Soon the contraltos, sopranos, tenors and 
basses were sorted and seated and began to learn their 
parts, while Mr. Casey, a big cigar between his teeth, 
pounded out their notes. 

At lunch time the majority descended the rickety 
stairs to the saloon below and partook of a glass of 
beer and a sausage. Dory peered in the back room, 
as she passed through the hall and shuddering a little, 
she took Zoe’s hand and hurried out to the street. 

They looked at each other in solemn silence a mo¬ 
ment, then Dory burst out laughing. 

“ I suppose we can’t expect the gayety all of a 
sudden,” she said. 

“ It’s the limit,” snapped Zoe. 

“ It’s screamingly funny. Did you see that girl 
they called Avec Plazir, if that’s not the map of 
Ireland on her face! ” 

Zoe laughed. 

“ It will be pretty nice when we get our sixteen 
plunks a week,” said Dory, “ and I’ll tell you what, 
we’ll take some of the money I have left, and buy our 
make-up boxes tonight.” 

“ How much have you left? ” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


98 

“ About fifty dollars.” 

Dory had loaned the remainder of the five hundred 
to Mrs. Sand to pay expenses. 

“ You’d better take my advice and hang on to the 
rest of it,” suggested Zoe, “ after we buy the make-up 
tonight! ” 

“ All right, dear, I will — it’ll be lots of fun tonight. 
Your mother will teach us how to make up for the 
stage.” 

“ Yes,” said Zoe, “ if she’s able — if she hasn’t 
been doctoring up her nerves with whiskey. It seems 
to me that ‘ pre-war ’ stock of mommie’s is being 
mysteriously replenished! ” 

Quick tears rushed to Dory’s eyes. “ I wish Jules 
would come back — he’d give us a little encourage¬ 
ment anyway.” 

“ I wish Jack Harrington would come,” sighed 
Zoe. “ I’m just crazy about him, do you know that? ” 

“ But you said you’d marry anyone with money 
who’d ask you! ” 

“ Oh, well,” said Zoe, as she made a willful little 
moue — “I certainly would — but I’d never give up 
Jack — don’t you see? ” 

“ Don’t talk like that, Zodie dear.” 

“ I mean it! ” 

There had been two weeks of constant rehearsing 
— two weeks of scanty nourishment and discourage¬ 
ment at Mrs. Sand’s irrational condition — her alter¬ 
native gaiety and whimpering. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


99 


But Dory looked upon it all with smiling lips and 
eyes that were perhaps a trifle sad — but eyes in 
which hope lived — warm and golden. For the day’s 
work was all engrossing. Its details were absorbingly 
interesting and Dory began to learn the lesson that 
constant occupation prevents misery from spinning her 
gloomy web in the human heart. 

One of the “ high lights ” — as Dory called the im¬ 
portant events — was the appearance of the principals 
and what was her amazement and delight to find that 
among them was Silvia Van Twiller! They foresaw 
at once an amusing companionship — a link of former 
glory. But time proved that no “ principal ” ever ob¬ 
served the proper etiquette of arrogance to the chorus 
better than the same blonde Silvia, she of the “ un¬ 
dying friendship for her old pals.” 

But when the company left for Buffalo, Mrs. 
Sand, heavily veiled, insisted upon going down and 
seeing the girls off, and on perceiving her friend, 
Bella, Silvia Van Twiller fell upon her in her spec¬ 
tacular way, hoping the manager would see how 
dramatic she could be. Wiping away the last tear, 
she swore to Bella, she would look after the two 
“ kiddies ” and bade her, in an ominous tone, to 
cheer up for better days were coming. Mrs. Sand did 
not suspect in the least what her friend meant by 
this. Of one thing she was certain, the way would 
not issue from Silvia’s purse. 

Poor Bella Sand knew another thing for certain. 
She could not wait for her return home before having 


100 INVISIBLE WINGS 

something to buck her up. Zoe’s pale little face at 
the carriage window and Dory’s brown brooding eyes 
went right to her heart and she felt that nothing could 
give her relief but complete oblivion. But these days 
being of prohibition Bella considered herself “ out of 
luck.” 


CHAPTER X 


D RESSING-ROOM “ No. 65 ” was a wooden box 
about ten feet square. It smelled of grease 
paint, of cheap perfume and perspiration. It 
was lined with gaudy costumes and one would have 
felt quite suffocated if the roof of this cellar had not 
been very high. Sitting closely together before a nar¬ 
row shelf, crowded with make-up, were six girls. Each 
one bent forward towards a little crooked mirror, and 
diligently painted her face. Next the far wall sat Dory 
O’Moore. Two tiny curls had escaped on the back of 
her pretty neck, but the rest of the auburn mass was 
tied in a tight top-knot, so it would not be touched by 
grease paint. Next her sat Zoe who had quickly ac¬ 
quired the habit of her associates in not wearing any¬ 
thing over her chemise unless she was cold. Then 
came “ Pearl April,” “ pony ” of Semitic origin. 
The only thing large about Pearl was her nose. She 
now drew a line of white down this member, which she 
confided to Zoe “ makes it look smaller from the 
front ” and straight-away Zoe drew an unnecessary 
line down her ridiculously little retrousse! 

The fourth one was “ Fanny Bliss,” a respectable 
young widow with a good voice. When overcome with 
fatigue, the poor woman would become homesick for 
her two babies, and cry. Sometimes Dory would look 


IOI 


102 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


at their cunning photographs, and cry with her, and 
Fanny would be comforted. 

Then came “ Avec Plazir,” an Irish girl with imag¬ 
ination, whose real name was Maggie Doolin. “ Avec ” 
went in for pink paradise plumes; and slightly spotted 
second-hand velvet suits. “ Looks all right on the out¬ 
side,” remarked Pearl April with her Jewish accent, 
“ but — Oie, Oie, for her own sake, I hope an accident 
never happens to her on the street! ” 

At the end of the line, sat a tall corpulent girl, who 
exuded a fat babylike contentment. “ Constance 
Perry ” wore a real sealskin and quiet, well-made 
clothes. The mystery of changing them every night 
for a “ page’s suit ” of green wool tights was ex¬ 
plained by her close companionship with Mr. Eliot, 
boss and manager. 

The wooden door popped open and “ Queenie,” the 
wardrobe mistress, popped in. Her little black eyes 
were like two hatpins. Queenie was short and thin 
and wiry and every movement was a jerk. “ If any¬ 
body ain’t got everything they need, tell me now — 
the bell rings in ten minutes. Miss Plazir, did you 
darn them tights I gave ye this morning? ” 

Avec Plazir turned her head with the majesty of 
a queen. “ Who did ye think darned them, my per¬ 
sonal maid? ” then scratching her mouse-colored hair 
thoughtfully with one finger, she remarked to the 
girls: “ Really you’d think a millionaire was a friend 
to me the way that woman talks! ” 

“ No sass, you!” said Queenie. 


“ The public 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


103 


wouldn’t get much of a treat from you if you didn’t 
sew ’em up.” Quickly changing her tone to a melli¬ 
fluent purr, she stepped over and put her arm around 
Dory. “ Here’s somethin’ for you, dearie,” as she 
held out a pair of pale blue silk tights. 

“ For me! ” 

“ Yes, honey.” 

“ But — Zoe’s — I mean Sand’s — are woolen! I 
couldn’t wear these while everybody else has horrid 
woolen ones, even Zoe too.” 

“ We only have ten minutes,” answered Queenie, 
and with an enigmatic smile she added: “ Miss 
Sand’ll probably have a pair tomorrow! ” She went 
out, then poked her head in the door. “ It’s the 
manager’s orders yer to put ’em on at once, Miss 
O’Moore! ” 

The company had rehearsed all the previous night 
and until five o’clock in the morning, so poor Dory’s 
head ached too much to solve any problem — she 
meekly obeyed. 

In five minutes, the wardrobe mistress reappeared. 
Gazing at Zoe in rapture she gasped. “ My, but 
you’re the candy — ain’t she a pippin, Miss Perry? 
Let me hook you up, dearie.” 

Always accepting service as her divine right, Zoe 
permitted herself to be hooked up as she stood before 
the mirror and continued painting her piquant little 
face. 

“ Anything else I can do fer the two beauties of 
the show? ” asked Queenie in the same mellifluent 


104 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


purr, gazing upon Dory and Zoe, with one hand on 
her hip and the other on the door-knob. But cries 
from an adjacent dressing-room caused her to sud¬ 
denly jerk herself energetically away. 

Immediately after her exit there were tributes paid 
to the wardrobe mistress such as would not bear 
whispering to one’s closest friend, expressions which 
Zoe learned quickly and used profusely. 

Dory was always tolerant though often nauseated 
by the mental atmosphere in the dressing-room. 
While she learned all the funny picturesque slang 
expressions of the stage, she never arrived at the 
vulgarisms. 

“ You two chicks better be careful of that old 
Magpie — Queenie,” whispered Pearl April to Dory, 
as she nodded her head and wrinkled her Jewish nose, 
“ peaches like you two is specialties for her,” and she 
humped her back and waved her hand ominously. 
Tights, ballet skirts, blond wig, nothing ever prevented 
Pearl from looking like a little Jewish Rabbi. In a 
blond wig she suggested the spirit of Moses masquer¬ 
ading as “ little Eva ” — not that Pearl meant to be 
sacrilegious, she was just born with the “comedy 
face.” 

“ Everybody on the stage, everybody on the stage! ” 
There was a moment of busy powder puffs and rabbit’s 
paws, and they all passed through the narrow dusty 
hall and down the dark hall of the cellar where they 
dressed — that hall with its one gaslight stretched out 
like a skeleton’s arm, showing the way to a new life. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


105 

All dressed in gay colors, they mounted the almost 
perpendicular shaky wooden steps — and passed 
through a little dark passage, when — lo! a blaze of 
lights showed beyond the semi-darkness of the wings. 

Soaking with perspiration and talking in excited 
sibilant whispers some scene-shifters were putting on 
the last touches to the first act. 

At last everybody was on the stage — except, of 
course, the famous juvenile, named Miss O’Hara, a 
Jewess who waited downstairs with her married 
daughter, and Silvia Van Twiller. They disliked mix¬ 
ing unnecessarily with the common herd. 

Bulging through his slender costume and perspiring 
through his grease paint was Mr. Eliot — the boss 
and stage manager. He already wore that far-away 
expression which some actors get when “ in a part.” 
Mr. Eliot went among his company. He had a few 
words of unnecessary encouragement for George 
Bradford, the fat, egotistical comedian. He had a 
smile and a compliment for the over-muscular little 
soubrette, and a slap on the back and a hand-shake 
for the tall, nervous, “ clearing-his-throat ” tenor. 
Everybody looked at everybody else with sleepless, 
feverish eyes and suddenly Dory realized that upon 
her was concentrated all attention. 

She had pinned the cape of her costume across her 
legs. The poor girl was weak with fatigue and burn¬ 
ing with shame. 

Mr. Eliot went over to her and held out his hand. 
He had been the exacting taskmaster during re¬ 
hearsals, now he was as tender and gentle as a woman. 


106 INVISIBLE WINGS 

“ You must not do that, Miss O’Moore,” he said, 
“ they are very pretty, and are going to help so much 
towards our success tonight.” His handclasp was 
frank — reassuring. “ The papers tomorrow will say 
we have Dory O’Moore, the prettiest girl on the 
American stage — don’t frown, or be shocked, child, 
you’ll help us all to earn our living.” 

Dory winced. 

But Mr. Eliot continued in a tone she could not 
resent: “ They are just as important, believe me, 
Miss O’Moore, as the tenor’s voice — as my acting! ” 

With trembling fingers Dory unpinned the cape, 
and everyone looked at the beautiful slender legs in 
the silk tights with cries of delight and admiration. 
“ It was all right downstairs,” she whispered to him 
through her dry throat, “ but up here, with the lights 
— I feel as if I were in a nightmare, walking down 
the main street with nothing on. Do you ever have 
dreams like that? ” 

Mr. Eliot smiled into her questing brown eyes. 
“ I’m going to give you an understudy next week,” 
he whispered, “ and you must get over stage fright 
first.” Again he clasped her hand, and the grateful 
Dory felt she would do anything he asked cheerfully. 

Zoe, who had been flirting with the tenor, pranced 
over at this point, and flung her arms around Dory. 
“ We’re the best looking things in the show,” she 
whispered. Dory gave her a tight squeeze. “ My 
dear,” confided Zoe, “ the tenor is crazy about me! ” 

Having cleared the stage, they rang the curtain up 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


107 

on the first act. The company’s doctor who was in¬ 
cidentally the “ backer,” stood in the wings and as 
the first act unfolded, he hissed remarks to the elec¬ 
trician. “ Full house, but dead — dead. Gee, this is 
sad! George Bragdon — God! who said he was a 
funny man? ” 

Mr. Becker still scowled as he listened attentively 
to Bragdon’s “ big comedy lines.” “ Ugh, he put that 
joke over and it lay there! God! He ought to get 
a job driving a hearse! ” 

Then came the soubrette’s song. 

“ By jinks, she ought to empty any house,” moaned 
Becker, as he saw his money pouring down a chute 
into the sea. “ Dee-liver me from these pugilist sou- 
brettes. I wouldn’t blame them for walking out on 
her-r-r.” 

“ Chorus, chorus,” whispered Mr. Bradley, the 
pert stage manager, waving his fingerless hand. “ Up 
to you to put some ginger in it now — or rehearsal 
after the show tonight — ginger up, now the girl who 
doesn’t smile gets fired — smile! . . .” 

“ Yes,” interjected Becker, “ every damn one of 
you smile ”... he hissed. 

Grabbing Dory’s arm, Bradley waited for the cue, 
then gave her a push out. 

Her head reeling before the glare, Dory smiled and 
led her line down the left. Her heart palpitating 
wildly, then she felt cold, but all the time she kept 
smiling . . . smiling. 

Then Zoe’s clammy hand met hers as the lines 


io8 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


formed a circle, and they both regained self-posses¬ 
sion and the audience became a black mass dotted 
with various white spots. And the glaring footlights 
shut them off from a listening, inert world. 

Dory seemed in a dream — going through auto¬ 
matic motions. Mr. Eliot was singing a song and the 
chorus ludicrously “ kept time.” 

Across the stage George Bragdon, the “ funny ” 
man stood doing some “ comical stuff ” by looking 
cross-eyed at the pretty girls. As usual poor George 
was in the way, and when Dory led her line across 
stage she tripped on his protruding spurred foot and 
went prone. 

For a moment it was ghastly. It seemed to Dory in 
that hideous instant that the whole show must be 
hooted off, and the world must come to an end. But 
without missing a note of his song Mr. Eliot went 
over, picked her up gently, and petted her pretty head 
as he went on his way. 

This little human accident brought down the here¬ 
tofore passive house. Mr. Eliot smiled at the 
audience. For the first time they were with him. He 
repeated his song. Again they applauded. He was 
recalled — once — twice. Before she knew it Dory 
was led in front of the curtain. 

There was a tear in her eye but she smiled up at 
the gallery and kissed her hand prettily to them, then 
tripped into the wings amidst storms of applause. 

“ Ah, those beautiful legs of yours saved us,” whis¬ 
pered Mr. Eliot as they descended to the dressing- 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


109 

room together. “ Whoever gave you those good- 
looking tights? ” 

“ But the management . . . 

“ Ah, no ... I think not.” 

At this moment Silvia Van Twiller peeked out of 
her dressing-room door and gathered Dory to her 
ample bosom. “ You’re a great kiddie,” she said, 
“ and very sensible to accept the present of those 
tights.” 

Dory drew back. “ My head feels so funny.” 
Tears welled up in the shining eyes. “ I don’t under¬ 
stand, — Queenie brought them in — made me put 
them on — said they were mine! ” 

Silvia stood back against her dressing-table. “ My 
dear, those tights are what made you the hit of the 
evening! ” They were sent you by dear old Harry 
Balster! ” 

“ Oh, I didn’t know . . . I’ll take them right off. 
Queenie never told me — there was no card — 
nothing.” 

“ Oh, come on now, don’t be a silly,” reasoned 
Silvia, “ He’s staying at my hotel and let’s all have 
a cozy meal together tonight. Bring Zoe too. I’ll 
bet real food’ll look good to both you kids,” and 
Silvia grasped Dory’s hand. “ Harry Balster is 
simply nutty about you! ” 

Dory had one of those vacant sensations that come 
over people sometimes when everything in them cries 
out in vain for words — she stood looking at the 


woman. 


no 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


And Silvia smiled and looked at Dory as she pulled 
in her pink brocaded corsets and marvelled that any 
man could go mad over such a little “ chit of a thing.” 

At last Dory heard herself saying emphatically 
enough: “ Miss Van Twiller, when you were a friend 
of Mrs. Sand’s — I knew Harry Balster, and I h-hate 
him! ” 

“ What! ” shrieked Silvia, pinning on her enormous 
black hat, “ when I was a friend . . She drew 
herself up — fairly bursting over the corsets, but after 
a pant or two she resumed quietly, “ Little lady, I 
am always a friend of Mrs. Sand’s.” 

The outrage of Silvia’s patronizing actions all 
flowed over Dory . . . her demoralizing effect upon 
Zoe — her ingratitude to Mrs. Sand. “ I said when 
you were a friend — you’ve acted like a demon to Zoe 
and me — making us feel our lowly positions, and 
nearly driving Zoe to desperation — driving her to 
do just what you want me to do now, but you won’t 
be above us for long , and as for Mr. Balster, you are 
not young enough for him . . 

“ You damn little . . 

“ Everybody on the stage for the last act,” sang 
the callboy . . . “ Everybody on the stage.” 

Her heart beating wildly, Dory flew towards the 
stairs — leaving Silvia to swear at her maid, as she 
hurried into a dress. 

She kissed Zoe wildly on the cheek before taking 
her place in line and in her eyes was the look of the 
enraged mother lioness. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


hi 


Still trembling with rage at the thought of Silvia’s 
strategem, she peered out through the wings, and 
there, sitting in the first row was Harry Balster. 

And there was she — the proud pure maiden — 
tripping about with his tights on, of all things . . . 
tights! 

Truly it was a fantastic life — this shadow life of 
the theatre! And its unreality was half a nightmare 
and half a fascinating dream. “ Even when I give 
them back I will have worn them,” thought Dory and 
shivered. 

The presaging chord to the fourth act banished 
everything from Dory’s excited brain but the thought 
of success. She wanted to go out there and sing her 
soul’s song to those people. She could do this, she 
could sing and move the most adamantine heart out 
there — ah, there would be a day when she would 
have that chance. It would come. It must come. 

Then no more garret-room without fire — no more 
scanty dirty meals — no more anguishing over the 
wants of her loved ones. This miserable impecunious 
position crushed her. How many radiant spirits beat 
their gorgeous wings against these ugly cages of pov¬ 
erty all the best years of their life — before recogni¬ 
tion brings release. And, ah, still sadder are the poor 
ones who beat themselves to exhaustion and dying 
leave behind them treasures of their souls that the 
world at last finds out and cherishes. They are all 
like some great musician dead of starvation and buried 
to the strains of their own immortal funeral march. 


CHAPTER XI 


T HE first performance was over. It had proven a 
success. This would mean at least a month’s 
stay in Buffalo and everybody offered thanks. 
Tired out from long rehearsing, no one lost much 
time in getting into street clothes. 

The “ Dory O’Moore fall ” was gossiped about in 
every dressing-room, some whispering it was previ¬ 
ously arranged between the manager and the chorus 
girl; and Dory O’Moore’s legs were talked about by 
everyone. 

Zoe pretended to be pleased but was secretly furious 
and laid Dory’s little success entirely to the fact of 
the silk tights. Their origin Dory whispered she 
would tell her later, adding: “ And I surely won’t 
have them tomorrow night!” “ Oh my,” laughed 
Dory as she hung up her plumed cap in the dressing- 
room, “ if dear old Sister Sebastian could see us now, 
what, Zoe? ” 

Dropping her belt with a clank, Pearl April raised 
her cosmetic eyebrows. “ Aw cut that Sister Sabbath 
Day, don’t do the little convent girl stuff here, 
cutie . . 

“ Yes,” added Avec Plazir, stopping to look up from 
cold cream washing, “ Yes, when Sister Sabbath Day 
sees the O’Moore legs in the Police Gazette . . .” 


112 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


113 

This brought cries from the surrounding dressing- 
rooms and there were loud calls for Queenie to go 
and take care of the “ only pair of silk tights in the 
whole bloomin’ show.” 

But Queenie was very busy with a little affair of 
her own. Walking stealthily up the little dark pas¬ 
sage-way, the sharp-eyed wardrobe mistress came to 
the wooden door marked “ Stage Entrance Only.” 
She turned its rusty bolt and swung it backwards, 
and peered out. 

There stood a few curious shop-girls, some gamins 
pushing each other out of the way, and six or seven 
“ johnnies.” After looking around cautiously, Queenie 
beckoned to the two smartest dressed youths. One 
of them stepped quickly towards her. 

“ Who do you want to see,” whispered Queenie. 

The gentleman leaned on his cane and doffed his 
hat chivalrously. “ You, fair lady,” he answered. 

“ No kiddin’ now,” whispered Queenie. “ I spotted 
you and your friend over there in the back of the 
box — I seen who ye had your eyes on — and I kin 
give you an’ yer friend an introduce, see? Under¬ 
stand?” 

The gentleman rubbed his index finger and thumb 
together significantly. 

“ You’re on,” whispered Queenie. “ Five plunks 
apiece is all I ask — there’s both corn feds — just off 
the farm — but that’s up to you — see? Would you 
like the dark or the blonde one — I thought yer friend 
was just devourin’ the blonde one — the way he was 
lookin’.” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


114 

“ Righto — the dark one for me.” 

“ Well,” said Queenie, “ her name’s Dory O’Moore 
and the other one is Zoe Sand. Stand on the corner 
down there — I’ll wander down with them in about 
an hour. Any story I put up’ll be to your interest to 
agree wit’. S’long! ” 

The door closed. The bolt was turned. 

After a little while, it opened again, and various 
members of the company started to file out. 

Just inside the door, Queenie stopped Dory and her 
friend, and was confiding to them about the gentle¬ 
men outside who asked her to find two “ good-lookin’ ” 
girls for a big Broadway production. I’ll introduce 
ye — they’ll take ye to dinner and ye better go — 
’cause them are the people can give ye big jobs — 
give ye a real chance.” 

They started out — one on either side of the “ bene¬ 
factress ” who planned to lead them down to the 
appointed corner. But as they reached the door what 
was her surprise to see her “ two Johnnies ” standing 
like two boobs right in front of the stage entrance. 
Surprise was quickly supplemented by fear and in¬ 
dignation as one of them — it was Jules Blenner — 
rushed forward and grasped the delighted Dory’s 
hand, and the other — Jack Harrington — offered his 
arm to Zoe. 

“ Bon soir,” laughed Harrington over his shoulder to 
Queenie, as he bowed the girls into a waiting taxi. 
“ You are a good little business woman, — but be 
careful some day you don’t land in the coop.” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


ii5 

Then to the chauffeur, — “ Drive us to the Palmer.” 
Standing with one hand on her hip and her small 
black eyes like two poisoned pin points, Queenie just 
looked after them. She could scarcely believe it. 
Then to herself, she demanded: “Well, wouldn’t that 
eat cher ” — and going down the street she answered 
herself, — “That ’ud coitenly eat-ches, that would! 
Two convent girls! Pretty soft.” 

• ••••••• 

Whirling through the rainy drenched glimmering 
streets Dory was happy. Was she not close — close 
to no other than Jules Blenner? 

True it was against all her resolutions. For she 
and Zoe had promised each other they would ignore 
all invitations to go out after the theatre. “ Mid¬ 
night parties ” were a bugbear to run from. But this 
was the exception. 

When Jack Harrington returned to New York and 
heard all the news, he persuaded his paper to send 
him to Buffalo on the Winston trail. And Jules, who 
had returned from his concert tour, decided to spend 
all his meager profits on accompanying Jack. 

“ We just thought we’d surprise you,” said Jack. 
“ Is it a pleasant surprise? ” 

For answer, Zoe flung back her little head and 
looked at him through half-closed eyes — those small, 
dark oriental eyes curved up a little at the corners 
which recalled so vividly the fascinating ones of Bella 
Sand. The taxi drew up at the ornamental entrance 
of the Palmer, and suddenly both girls became con- 


n6 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


scious of looking shabby, and begged to be taken some¬ 
where less pretentious. 

“ Oh, don’t be so foolish,” protested Jules. “ We’ll 
have the prettiest girls in the dining-room — come.” 

“ Pooh,” scoffed Jack. “ Every man’s eyes in the 
place will be bulging,” and in the next moment the 
four were standing laughing and talking in the lobby, 
while bowing waiters were relieving the men of their 
hats and coats. 

“ Oh, Jack, I’m so happy to see you, you’re a duck 
to have come,” sighed Zoe. 

Harrington’s large sensual mouth parted in an enig¬ 
matic smile, and he fixed his glasses on as he looked 
in Zoe’s eager pale little face. “ Are you, baby- 
child? Well, I’m going to stay the whole time the 
show is in Buffalo.” 

In spite of Harrington’s youth, he was only twenty- 
seven, his knowledge of women was vast and dark. 
So he refrained from telling Zoe what a really colossal 
effort he had made to join her. 

The brilliant lights made poor trembling, ecstatic 
Dory quite dizzy. The simple process of walking into 
the dining-room, first on one foot, then on the other, 
seemed a herculean feat, so conscious was she of the 
ludicrous grey dress. Once a smart princess frock, in 
the possession of Mrs. Sand, the curving seams which 
had followed the lines of her form — were crooked 
and baggy now, and the threadbare grey silk hung on 
Dory’s slender figure like a hollow mockery. She 
yearned to be miraculously transformed — or swal- 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


117 

lowed up, as she caught her reflection in the myriad 
mirrors. For the first time she had a really good look 
at the skirt, she had shortened herself — and surely 
it was unsuccessful workmanship. She saw the cheap 
little grey shoes woefully turned over at the high 
wooden heels, the once gorgeous black tulle hat, now 
rusty and frowsy. Like a queen she would have 
moved if smart clothes had covered her beautiful shell- 
colored body. But these rags ignominiously cheap¬ 
ened her appearance and realizing this her little feet 
shuffled apologetically. 

The waiter was showing them to a table. Jules 
Blenner would be ashamed of her! At this thought, 

V 

the little hand trembled and down went the dollar 
umbrella, to which for some reason she had clung. 

Before she knew it, somebody had leaned over from 
his table, picked up the “ rube parasol,” and bending 
low his fair fat head over a pearl-studded evening 
shirt, was presenting the large wooden handle to her, 
with much ceremony. Next moment, a low cry 
escaped her — for Dory was looking into the pale 
eyes of Harry Balster. He was supping with Silvia 
Van Twiller. He had the wisdom not to try to force 
himself on Dory and the other members of the party 
did not speak to him as they passed his table. 

Dory related the night’s episode. 

“ Silvia is in cahoots with the wardrobe mistress,” 
declared Jack Harrington, as he went on to tell his 
scene with Queenie. 

“ It’s all that damn Balster,” cried Jules. “ I’ll go 
over and break his head ” — and he darted up. 


n8 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


But Jack restrained him and Zoe whispered — 
“ Anyway — of course I haven’t any silk tights — 
only woolen ones, ugh! But if he’d sent them to me 

— I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of sending 
them back after I’d worn them! ” 

This threw a new light on the situation. 

Then Jules suggested that Jack buy a nice silk 
pair for Zoe, and he should buy a pair for Dory — 
which she might send back in place of the ones she 
had worn. “ The fat-head,” concluded Jules, as he 
glared truculently over at Balster’s back — “I can 
hardly keep my hands off him! ” 

At this, Jack Harrington dropped Zoe’s hand which 
he had been ardently holding under the table. He put 
his black-rimmed spectacles on, and leaning across the 
table looked steadily at the dogmatic Jules. Then 
very slowly, he began: “ For a person with so little 
dough, you certainly have a lot of crust! If you have 
money to buy the child a silk pair of tights, you better 
invest it in a hat for her, my boy.” Turning to Dory, 
he continued: “ Take all you can get from that mut 

— Balster — you don’t have to see him, you know — 
why, a girl like you could string a boob like him for 
a fortune. He’d be only too delighted to feel some 
of his bankroll going over to you! ” 

Dory cringed, as she did the night of Mrs. Sand’s 
party. 

“ Please — just don’t talk about it any more — I’m 
sorry I spoke — I shouldn’t have — it’s humiliating.” 

“ I think Miss O’Moore can get along well without 
your advice, Jack — just shut up,” said Jules. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


119 

Accepting the admonishment with good nature, 
Jack recaptured Zoe’s willing little hand and remarked 
in a ministerial voice — “ And they that have plenty 
shall be given more — and they that have little shall 
have it taken away from them.” 

The waiter offered two steaming partridges on a 
gleaming silver platter, and at a nod from Jack, he 
retired to the side table and started to carve. 

“ Don’t be nervous any more,” pleaded Jules. 
“ I’m here with you — and I’m not going to let any¬ 
one harm you.” His eyes clung to Dory’s dark ten¬ 
der ones a long moment — and their hands found each 
other. 

The orchestra played the curious strains of a new 
dance, gay flowers filled the softly lighted room with 
their perfume. The atmosphere was warm — intoxi¬ 
cating — and even more intoxicating was the little 
god of Love who sat victorious at the dainty table. 


CHAPTER XII 


F OR five weeks they had been in Buffalo. 

One day Dory came home very tired after a 
long rehearsal. Taking her shoes off she 
threw herself on the bed and for a long time lay there, 
thinking. 

Jules wanted to marry her. She was in a small 
room on the top floor, — an attic room and one small 
window. The iron bedstead was double size and she 
and Zoe slept together. There was an oak combina¬ 
tion dresser and wash-stand with a crooked mirror 
and against .the wall were their two trunks. A gay 
calendar of a former year was pinned on the soiled 
papered wall, a picture of a sumptuous lady descend¬ 
ing from her bath. A worn black pocket-book — in¬ 
cidentally an empty pocket-book — and a half burned 
candle were on a rickety table near the bed. This 
was poverty. 

Yet, when Jules came to the equally bare and ugly 
parlor downstairs, she was happy — inexpressibly 
happy. One look from his dark eyes thrilled her and 
luxury became an indifferent triviality. One word 
from his curved lips interested her as no other man’s 
conversation — however rich — could interest her. 
And when he kissed her the whole world was forgotten. 


120 


INVISIBLE WINGS 12 1 

« 

That morning she had just five cents left. Stopping 
at a lunch counter across from the theatre, she ordered 
a cup of coffee and climbed up on the high stool to 
enjoy her breakfast. A very thick cup of steaming 
liquid was set before her by a “ plug-ugly ” waiter. 

“ Ooo,” cried Dory — “ please — ” as she looked 
in the cup, “ I have a fly in this coffee! ” 

The man planted his hands on his hips and glared 
at her. “ Well, ye got a spoon to take it out, ain’t 
ye? ” He kept his brows elevated and batted his 
scarce eyelashes as he patiently waited an answer. 

If Dory had had another five cents she would have 
laughed at this typical “ stage tough ” — and if she 
had been strong and rested she would have lustily de¬ 
manded another cup or the money back. Being penni¬ 
less and exhausted, she slipped off the stool and bolted 
for the door thanking heaven for her safe exit. Then 
carefully balancing the jarred stomach, she made her 
way to rehearsal as best she could. 

Jules and Jack had not asked them for lunch, prob¬ 
ably for the same reason that Dory partook not of 
breakfast. But when Zoe and Dory met in their 
attic room, there was that basket of fruit. The remit¬ 
tance had been sent home to Mommie Sand — lodg¬ 
ing had been paid for — neither of the girls had a 
cent, both had empty stomachs and there on the table 
was a marvellous basket of real ripe fruit! 

“ You see, it’s from Balster,” said Dory, as she 
furtively picked off one grape. 

“ He’s certainly a tireless swain,” remarked Zoe 
as she picked off two grapes. 


122 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ Of course I’ll send the thing back to him,” said 
Dory as she tasted a raisin. 

By this time Zoe was in the depths of a big mealy 
banana. 

“ Of course,” she said. 

“ I’m ghastly hungry,” sighed Dory. “ Mm — this 
is the sweetest fig — ambrosial, my dear — ” then as 
she took another one, — “I was beginning to have a 
hollow ache — I never appreciated the pangs of hun¬ 
ger before — awful! ” 

Without stopping to talk, Zoe handed her a banana 
while eating another one herself. 

This proved filling — yes, satisfying — and now 
Dory’s conscience cried out even as her stomach had 
before. 

“ I’ll send the rest of it back. Gee — Zodie, we’ve 
eaten a lot of it! ” 

Zoe wiped the large formless mouth and settled 
down to a half hour or so of digesting. “ Send it 
back! ” she scoffed. “ You’ll do nothing of the kind 
— take all you can get from him — Jules hasn’t any¬ 
thing! Jack gave you very good advice. Work Harry 
Balster for all he’s worth. I wish to jingo I had 
someone I could work — no such luck! ” 

“ But you know Jack would object just as Jules 
would to my really doing it — anyway, I hate the man 
and I refuse to accept anything from him! Oh, why 
did we eat that fruit — ” then a little gleam of humor 
came to her eyes — “ as Jack would say — ain’t 
nature wonderful! ” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


123 

“ Well,” said Zoe, “ Jack is very nice — but he has 
no money — it’s easy enough to know someone you 
like — I know I’m crazy about Jack, but it makes me 
sick, this poverty stricken kind of business for a girl 
like me! As for you, Dory — you’re a fool not to 
encourage Balster — marry him if you like . . 

“ What!—Ugh” — Dory shivered and made a 
moue. 

“ Well, — I mean if you have to be respectable — 
that would give you a stronger hold on him — it’s a 
cinch Mother would have married him if she could — 
and — well, Jules will always be crazy about you, 
Dory. It would be a wonderful combination, — 
money and love! ” 

“ You don’t know what you’re saying, Zoe — soon 
we’ll have had stage experience enough and can get 
better jobs — then you won’t feel so bitter towards 
things.”’ 

A few days later came another basket of fruit. 
Dory arrived in the parlor to find Jack and Zoe gen¬ 
erously partaking of it in a carefree, childish fashion. 

“ Jack, do you realize Balster sent me that stuff? ” 

Jack fixed his spectacles with that superior gesture 
he had and pulled her down beside him — “ Surely 
you’re being faithful to him, kiddie? ” 

“ You must be serious — ” 

“ I am. You’re looking very pale; my, what violet 
shadows under the baby’s big brown eyes — have an 
orange, it’ll do you good. Now settle down — we’ll 


124 INVISIBLE WINGS 

all have a nice cozy feed and don’t think about any¬ 
thing awful.” 

But visualized in Dory’s mind was the red bulging 
forehead, the white eyebrows and pale blue eyes — 
the fat nose and weak twitching mouth of Balster as 
he swooped down upon her from a superior position, 
and this time she did not taste the fruit. 

That night a note came from him. 

“ My dear Dory: — 

“ Did you enjoy my offering? Why not send me 
a line? As you know I passed you in my car today — 
you would not bow to me — but you looked so weary 
I wanted to lift you right in and fly off with you. 
Why not be sensible? Come to me, I’ll teach you to 
love me, but whatever you do, don’t make the mis¬ 
take of marrying Jules Blenner — a man without 
money is bad — but a musician without necessities 
is hell let loose! Stop all this nonsense about ‘ a girl 
can face the world and earn her living and happiness.’ 
You are tired of the struggle already if you will let 
yourself realize it. Come to me, I’ll make you — 
Queen. As Mrs. Balster you shall have every luxury 
and gradually you will grow to love me for it. 

Yours — 

“ Harry B.” 

And Balster could not conceive of any woman re¬ 
fusing these things. For what was the world coming 
to when a rich man could not lie back and select any 
poor woman he deigned to desire? Had not men al¬ 
ways bought women? The ideas this child had about 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


125 

equal strength, facing the world and earning a living, 
caused him to roll his big head around in glee. 

Upon these incidents Dory reflected as she lay 
upon the humble little bed. It was good to be alone. 
In her dream she could see the dear form of Jules — 
see his dark eyes — and the charming way they had 
of mutely telling their love to hers. Then she would 
plan a way for their future together. Very practical 
and wise she would be for a while — then gradually 
nebulous and back to her dream. 

At last she rose and went over to the mirror. 

“ Miss O’Moore,” came the nasal voice of the land¬ 
lady from the floor below — “ Miss O’Moore — a 
gentleman to see you — a Mr. Blenner, he says.” 

Twisting a curl on her pale forehead, Dory ad¬ 
dressed herself to the mirror. “ A regular woman 
marries the man she loves. I want to be what Jack 
calls a good sport — so I’ll earn my own living since 
Jules can’t do it for me — and I’ll marry him — ” 
A little powder on the Greek nose — and yes, it was 
the habit of the theatre — a little rouge on the tender 
mouth. “ I’ll never settle down to stagnate and live 
off anybody — never! Not me! ” And she tripped 
down the stairs to a strange little tune her heart 
seemed to sing — “ A real woman marries the man 
she loves — a real woman marries the man she loves! ” 


CHAPTER XIII 


T HREE days later the Eliot Opera Company were 
to leave Buffalo for Washington on the io a.m. 
train. 

At half past nine, Mr. Eliot stood breathless on 
the boarding-house doorstep. The landlady, she of 
the nasal voice, appeared in full armor of rag curlers 
and cold cream and demanded, “ What wuz eatin’ him 
to make him stand an’ ring a bell fifteen times in one 
minute.” 

“ I am the gentleman who just telephoned you 
about members of my company — Miss O’Moore and 
Miss Sand — you’re sure they’re not here? We 
leave in half an hour. I have a personal interest in 
Miss O’Moore, will you let me go to her room — I 
may discover some traces.” 

“ Come in.” 

The landlady pursed her lips and stared in solemn 
wrath at the anxious manager. “ She ain’t here now 
— an’ she wuzn’t here all night — her trunk is nothin’ 
to me — but she ain’t paid her bill — I know that! ” 
Just as Mr. Eliot made for the stairs, a hansom 
drew up with a man, and out fluttered — Dory! 

“ Oh —Mr. Eliot! ” 

Quickly he drew her into the parlor. “ What does 
this mean? ” 


126 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


127 


“I —I — ” 

“ If I ever met a woman I could swear was decent, 
it was you — now look at you — your mother — ” 

At the magical word “ mother ” — she tiptoed to 
whisper, “ Don’t tell — it’s to be a secret. I am mar¬ 
ried— I was married last night! ” And reaching in 
her hand-bag, she produced her certificate. 

“ Are you going to quit the show? ” 

“ No,” gasped Dory. “ I can’t afford that — I’ll 
run upstairs now — it won’t take me a second — 
you’ll forgive me for being late on my — marriage 
morning? And you won’t tell — and — ” 

“ I’ll give you five minutes.” 

Just as Dory turned towards the stairs another 
hansom drew up and out came Zoe! 

Whereat Dory stopped still in utter amazement. 
“Zoe!—where did you come from? Didn’t you 
come home last night — Zoe? ” 

“ Come from! ” broke in the landlady. “ The dirty 

— little slut — where do you suppose she come from 

— from church? ” 

Dory gathered her friend in her arms. “ Zoe dar¬ 
ling — you told me you were coming home — ” she 
whispered. “ Are you married too? Is that it? ” 

But Zoe pushed her gently away, her small black 
eyes were brilliant, her skin showed not a trace of 
color but the large formless mouth was painted scarlet. 
She pursed it a little and the delicate nostrils dilated 
as she answered, “ Of course not! ” 

“ Please pay your rent and leave this house — the 


128 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


two o’ ye,” shrieked the landlady, her curl-papers 
fairly bristled with her rage. “ This is a respectable 
house — always wuz respectable till now — an’ — ” 
Zoe threw her a five-dollar bill. 

“ Miss Sand,” said Mr. Eliot, “ you have ten min¬ 
utes in which to get to the theatre, or I must ask 
you not to come at all! ” 

At this reprimand, Zoe drew herself up and in¬ 
formed Mr. Eliot she had no intention whatever of 
going to the theatre at all. 

Again Dory threw her arms around her. “ Zoe, 
don’t leave me,” she cried. “ I never needed you so 
badly — don’t leave me now, Zodie! ” 

But Mr. Eliot intervened. “ Come, come, I’ve no 
time for this, Dory, you leave immediately with me 
— or stay with your crowd here — decide at once! ” 
Dory leapt up the stairs and in a few minutes a 
woe-begone little creature came down on that bright 
May wedding morning. In four large newspaper 
bundles were her extra belongings, a pink stage hat 
half bursting through one of them, and a green cloth 
cape through another. And peering over the packages 
was a pair of purple brown eyes, vainly trying to see 
the steps. 

Jules jumped out of the hansom as she appeared. 
But Mr. Eliot stood in white fury holding open the 
door of a taxi. “ You have not a moment, Miss 
O’Moore, if you’re coming with the show.” 

Jules bent and kissed the quivering lips and ignoring 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


129 


Eliot started to help his wife in the hansom. But at 
that moment “ You must earn your own living ” ap¬ 
peared in letters of red before Dory’s eyes, and clasp¬ 
ing the big silly packages she piled into the taxi, with 
Mr. Eliot and drove off. 


CHAPTER XIV 


I T WAS George Bragdon, the fat comedian, who 
came and sat with Dory in the train, and now and 
then held her cold hand in his while Dory gazed 
down on the enormous diamond on his small finger 
ring, and tried to answer his kindly stupid questions. 

“ What’s the trouble, kiddie?” He made his 
mouth look like a button and sank his chin in two or 
three rolls of fat neck, and he cocked his head to hear 
her whisper and widened his eyes. 

But answers became more and more inarticulate and 
finally when Bragdon was in the midst of a soft speech 
— he was saying, “ Many girls have come to me with 
their troubles in my time — I’ve been on the road for 
twenty-five years — and I’ve been a father and brother 
to those girls and — ” behold Dory’s auburn coils 
touched his shoulder — she was fast asleep! 

Upon arriving George offered the fruit of his ex¬ 
perience in showing them to a nice boarding-house — 
sounds paradoxical, but truth is a strange thing. This 
rambling wooden structure was one block from the 
theatre, and had everything in its favor except that it 
demanded the exorbitant rent of eight dollars a week 
for a room. But Dory had slept and there were no 
longer any real obstacles in her way. Before long it 
was arranged that Fannie Bliss, the little widow, Pearl 

130 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


131 

April, the big-nosed little pony, and Dory should share 
the room. 

And downstairs in great splendor on the first floor 
front lived old “ Papa Bragdon,” the comedian. 

That night after the performance the girls were un¬ 
packing their trunks when George appeared armed 
with his chafing-dish, two bottles of beer and ingre¬ 
dients for a Welsh-rabbit, and never was a Pasha re¬ 
ceived with more dancing joy. He made Dory lie 
down, covered her up with a quilt, gave the “ beero ” 
to Pearl to open, the packages to Fannie, while he pre¬ 
pared the rabbit, fussing over it like an old lady. 

And Dory looked out of hazy eyes thanking heaven 
for this genial atmosphere and vainly trying to grasp 
some of the details of the last few days. 

Jack Harrington and Zoe had been witnesses to her 
marriage. Then they had all gone to Palmer’s, and 
had supper, and when she and Jules registered as Mr. 
and Mrs. Blenner, Zoe kissed her and told her she 
was tired and wanted to go straight back to their 
boarding-house. The solemn man had given her a 
certificate which gave her a right to be with Jules that 
night — and forever. But Zoe? 

Loving Zoe gave Dory a keen intuition in regard 
to her, and she knew that harm had come to her — 
harm of the most pernicious kind. 

Still in the grey dress, silky brown curls over her 
pale face, the flowered cotton comforter around her, 
she lay a little bundle of emotion on the bed. It 
had been a wonderful, never-to-be-forgotten night with 


132 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


Jules — but harm, harm had come to Zoe, and she 
felt as ineffectual as a lost puppy. 

This was the first of many cozy times at the Wash¬ 
ington boarding-house, when George shared their 
supper and they enjoyed his fat harmless jocundity. 
He would tell them of the audiences he had captured 
from here to ’Frisco. Pearl April, who had an un¬ 
quenchable ambition to be a clog-dancer with a team 

in vaudeville, would get up on the table and dance 

\ 

for them, the tiny feet with their bright green stock¬ 
ings, clapping on the table like a pair of gay castanets 
and Fannie would show new pictures of her babies. 
Dory was loved and petted, and there was no more 
contented man in Washington than Bragdon as he 
would bid them good-night after the little supper and 
steal quietly downstairs to his first floor front, and a 
night of calm uninterrupted snoring. 

They had been playing five weeks in Washington to 
unsatisfactory houses, and now for two weeks, every¬ 
one had received only half salary. 

On exquisitely stamped stationery Zoe had written 
an enigmatic note to Dory telling her not to send the 
remittance to “ Mommie ” Sand, since they had had 
a stroke of luck and no longer needed any money. 
This strange sudden good fortune mystified Dory and 
caused her to have graver doubts than ever. Also a 
yearning to return to New York — see her friend — 
and ah! to see Jules for even a day. 

But Jules had no money. He deplored this fact 
in every letter, begging his wife to take care of her- 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i 33 


self, and not worry. Dory wrote him bright little 
missives telling only the pleasant things and omitting 
the fact that salaries were decreasing. 

But poverty was pinching the trio of chorus girls 
more and more every day. Pearl fairly withered 
under it. Wringing her thin hands she confided to 
the girls she had to send money to her old father who 
sold toys on 34th Street. She told them how she loved 
him and wanted to “ hel-up him ” in her earnestness 
reverting to Semitic type. “ He iss good. Ven effer 
I send him money ” — Pearl squinted her eyes and 
humped her back till she looked like a ludicrous old 
Jewish crone, — “ he safes it fer a house — a bunga¬ 
low in de country. V’y? He iss buying it fer me — 
an’ I kin live when I’m out of work! ” 

“ What’s the matter with you, Pearl — you look 
like a kike,” laughed Fannie. “ You’re not the only 
one to get singed! ” 

Whereat Pearl laughed, straightened herself, ceased 
the atavistic moaning and picking up her skirt, turned 
the funny little feet in and did an absurd clog dance. 
“ Be that as it may, we’ll have to laugh and dance an’ 
sing in our unaffected way,” she sang and came just 
then a tap at the door; it opened and the comic Irish 
face of Avec Plazir appeared. 

“ Hello, goils.” 

As usual, Avec was resplendent; this time she wore 
a slightly soiled, elaborately embroidered white linen 
dress, and a brilliant futurist sash embraced her trim 
waist. On her newly dyed yellow hair, sat a Louis 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


134 

Quinze hat of leghorn, defying the world and bristling 
with strange plumage. 

“ What’s that ‘ brain-storm ’ you’ve got on your 
head? ” asked Dory and laughed as she went over 
and put her rounded arm around Avec. “ You have 
such a piquant face, that if you’d take those feathers 
off, and just have one rose, you’d look like a lady of 
the quinzieme siecle.” 

“ Now ain’t she the jealous cat? ” remarked Avec. 
“ Such names to call a poison! ” 

“ No,” said Dory, “ without the feathers you’d look 
chic enough to be a Broadway show girl! ” 

“ Well,” responded Avec, “ I wuz a Broadway show 
girl once an’ I know all about it. You have t’ live 
up to it all the time. Goils, ye can give me the com¬ 
forts of a third-rate show like this — where people 
are so afraid of losin’ you they treat ye decent! ” 

“ Oh, my! ” sighed Pearl, her eyes glistening like 
a young barbarian’s, still gazing rapturously at Avec’s 
preposterous hat. “ Can’t you see they’re cock 
feathers? Let me try it on, hey — Avec? ” and Pearl 
held out her slim hand avidly. 

Avec seated herself on a trunk, pulled a bored ex¬ 
pression, and opened her cigarette case. At last her 
moment of revenge had come! How many times had 
Pearl April insinuated there was a lack of soap in her 
life? Now she shot out her question: “ When wuz 
yer hair washed, Poil? ” she asked, and made the 
inquiry most rudely significant. 

Glaring truculently, words failed poor Pearl. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


135 

A soprano-voiced riot was imminent, but Dory went 
over and put her hand on Avec’s. “ We didn’t mean 
it,” she said, “ and don’t let’s be sarcastic or any¬ 
thing today. We’ve just been consoling each other 
about being on half pay. I suppose we’re lucky to 
have that — except I had to pay for a new pair of 
slippers and I only have five dollars between me and 
starvation.’” 

“ Well,” demanded Avec innocently, “ what’s the 
matter with a pretty girl like you — oh — ” a light 
dawned on her. “ I remember — yer not allowed to 
have no company in this house.” 

“ Well? ” demanded Pearl, as she frizzed a strand 
of her dark faded hair. 

“ Well,” answered Avec, “ in my house it’s only six 
dollars a week fer a room to yourself — and ye kin 
have all the ‘ privileges ’ ye want! ” 

“ What privileges? ” asked Dory. 

“ Well, big eyes — that musician hangin’ around 
you in Baltimore wuz a privilege if ye must know.” 

“ Shut up, Avec,” cried Fannie. “ I mean that. 
None of that kind of talk around here.” 

“ Don’t you insinuate that I’m not as good as you, 
Fanny Bliss, or you, or you, Dory O’Moore — you 
might be hangin’ on to virginity — but take it from me, 
when it comes to a show-down — ye’d never miss it — 
on a dark and stormy night with a empty stomach and 
bum clothes — it ain’t worth that! Men ’er the people 
as runs this country — they keeps the wages high fer 
themselves and low fer women — and as long as they 
hev the coin they can buy women.” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


136 

Dory had returned to her chair and sat rocking 
back and forth in vague repulsion. Avec’s philosophy 
was the same as Harry Balster’s. In her vulgar speech 
there were undeniable half-truths. Finally Avec rose 
grandly, and leaning on her cerise parasol continued 
— “I hoid sounds of gaiety outside, so as I wuz all 
togged out in glad rags, I thought I’d come in an’ give 
you goils a treat an’,” Avec gazed around, “ signs of 
gaiety,” she scoffed, “ and wot do I do I find but three 
poverty-struck maidens! ” 

Here again Pearl stood up, glared truculently and 
failed to utter more than a gasp. 

“ As fer you, Poil April, Rebecca er whatever yer 
name is,” Avec pointed the gay parasol in contemptu¬ 
ous wrath — You’re like nothing I’ve yet 4 hoid ’ of! ” 
And with that, Avec made an effective exit, slamming 
the door so that it jarred the whole big house. 

“ She’s a wild-cat, all right,” remarked Fannie. 

“ Poor thing,” said Dory. “ We’d probably be 
wild too, if we led her kind of life and times being 
hard for us means . . . they’re doubly hard for her.” 

To Dory, Avec Plaizir’s hard eyes and calculating 
mouth told the story of her crushed cringing soul — a 
weak soul entirely subjugated by wilful heavy flesh. 
She had had no spiritual training as a child — that was 
the pitiful thing, and Dory always compassionated 
everything that was ignorant. Of course Zoe had had 
her training, but it had been counteracted by the ex¬ 
ample at home. Poor Zoe! Her letters written on 
expensive stationery filled Dory with ominous fears. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i 37 


If she might only go to New York. But no work was 
there for her. Jules wrote, “ Shows are closing all 
around town and the others want only trained people. 
I could not have you be a mere chorus girl on Broad¬ 
way— Darling, it would ruin both of us! ” 

Trained! That was it. She and Zoe had been 
trained to be little ladies — to sew a little, cook a little, 
sing a little, play a little! There had been no concen¬ 
tration on a marketable profession. And should they 
find themselves in an impecunious position, what did 
the light accomplishments avail them? She might go 
and be a seamstress — that is what Sister Sebastian 
would say, and she would be quite right. That is what 
many would be happy doing. But Dory’s wings flut¬ 
tered in imagination against the wires of a cramped 
dark little cage when she thought of that. They were 
meant to lift her through life, those wings, not to beat 
and bruise her against unnatural prison-walls. But 
Dory remembered Sister Sebastian’s lack of sagacity 
when she begged to be permitted to go to a training 
school for the stage. It was unwomanly, and — “ Fear 
not, dear child — God will send you a good husband 
— or a vocation.” “ But I want to go out in the 
world and be an individual or a great person like my 
mother.” Then the wistful nun stroked the head of 
her quixotic little girl pupil and sent her into the em¬ 
broidery class. 

Now she had married her mate physically — men¬ 
tally — and she could not take her place at his side, 
for though her talents equaled his, her training was 
deficient. She was a lady. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


138 

So she trudged along with people who had no desire 
to rise — whose very souls — like Avec’s, cringed from 
anything but “ the comforts of a third rate show,” 
while her own spirit yearned to soar into the air of art, 
but she was powerless. 

Seating herself in the Boston rocker in a corner, 
Dory took up the typewritten part Mr. Eliot had given 
her to understudy, and started to memorize it. 

The three girls settled down to their respective oc¬ 
cupations. But before long Fanny held them rapt with 
the story of her two children and their charming 
little ways. “ An’ to think,” sighed Fannie, “ that 
they can’t have enough to eat when I’m not getting 
paid! ” 

“ That certainly is hard lines,” sighed Pearl — 
“ when it’s a question o’ kids bein’ hungry — 
money — ” 

Leaning over from the rocker where she sat, Dory 
petted Fannie’s arm and kissed her cheek. “ I have 
four dollars saved up, Fan — you can have it for the 
kids — send it off to-day.” 

“ My! Your hand feels hot! ” cried Fannie — she 
felt Dory’s head. “ Have you got a headache, Dory? ” 

Then for some strange reason Dory felt big warm 
tears coursing down her cheeks and soon in Fannie’s 
arms she was crying softly, her whole body quivering 
with the silent sobs. And towards night Dory’s fever 
increased and she lay tortured by fears of she knew not 
what, while Pearl and Fannie went to the evening per¬ 
formance. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i39 

Hearing a creak on the stairs, she darted up to see 
if the door was closed. But fear froze the blood in 
her veins as she crouched near her pillow, half expect¬ 
ing some monster to steal cautiously in and slay her. 

No sooner had she recovered from this, than the 
window rattled. Surely that was more than the wind. 
She peered over the covers. And the bovine counten¬ 
ance of Harry Balster seemed to emerge slowly into 
the room. Once on the ground, he grew to heroic size. 
Indeed he reached the ceiling. Then as Dory plunged 
her head under the covers, he became small as ‘ hop-o’- 
me-thumb ’ and shook his little finger at her. Efforts 
to shut out these visions were futile. Harry Balster 
kept appearing, growing large and small during the 
two hours she was alone. 

When the girls returned at eleven, with the jocund 
George Bragdon, Dory declared she was much better. 
For in truth human companionship came as a blessed 
anodyne after the loneliness and terror of the past two 
hours. 

George felt Dory’s uneven pulse more professionally 
than a surgeon. Then shaking his elephantine hand, 
he promptly diagnosed the case as biliousness, and pre¬ 
scribed a mild cathartic, with a cup of hot bouillon 
which he would then make, and in the morning a blue 
pill! 

But in the morning Dory was seized with such vio¬ 
lent nausea, that Fanny summoned a doctor. 


140 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ You are not married? ” asked the doctor for the 
second time. 

“ No, no,” replied Dory. “ That is — ” 

But he was so sympathetic. One of those big men 
who come into a sick room quietly — sit beside the 
bed as if all the day were at his disposal, and permeate 
the place with quiet — and the patient with confidence. 

“ Because,” he said, “ don’t be frightened,” his voice 
lowered to a whisper, “ you are with child.” 

Closing her eyes and hugging her knees in the old 
way, Dory tried to realize the full meaning of it. She 
was frightened for a moment — then strangely happy. 

“ Are you sure? ” she asked. 

“ Perfectly.” 

“ I — I don’t know what to do — I must have time 
to think — Doctor? ” 

“ Yes, dear, don’t be nervous, — relax — I’ll just 
write a prescription.” 

“ Doctor! ” 

Raising his eyebrows over tired kind grey eyes, he 
smiled, “ Yes? ” 

“ D — don’t tell the girls here — don’t tell anybody, 
will you? ” 

“ No — no — but you ought to get out of here — I 
shouldn’t advise you to dance around too much — if 
you were a principal, it would be different — you 
might go on working for five or six months, — but they 
don’t have any consideration for you chorus girls — ” 

Dory’s natural acumen seemed to have left her. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


141 

The curved lips drooped as she looked at the doctor 
with softly-lighted troubled eyes. 

“ He must be a low dog, the man who caused this — 
why won’t he marry you? ” exclaimed the doctor 
suddenly. 

This brought exactly the reaction he anticipated. 

Drawing him over near her, Dory whispered, 
“ Never tell anyone — but I am married. You please 
mustn’t think he’s not nice. He’s the dearest — 
dearest boy in the world. His father’s rich — but 
he’s poor — very poor — and — and later on he will 
have prepared his father— and I’m to have a part 
later on in a New York show — he’s going to get it 
for me after I’ve had experience — and be a real ac¬ 
tress —but now — ” 

The doctor unclinched her hands which had become 
very hot again, and laid her softly down on the bed. 

“ Oh — I see. Well, you take my advice — you go 
to your husband. Keep it secret if you like — get a 
job which will be easier — but a woman in your condi¬ 
tion should be near someone who loves her, — should 
be near the father of her child. And — now you must 
nourish this baby — good simple things — no red meat 
or fancy sweet things, but chicken, fish — plenty of 
green vegetables, milk and fruit.” 

Again Dory closed the dark-lashed eyes as she lay 
on her back, her hands spread on the coverlet like 
petals of a white flower. She felt a moment of quiver¬ 
ing happiness. The miracle of motherhood! She 
wished the doctor would tell her again in that confiden- 




142 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


tial important way what to feed “ this baby.” Ah, 
again her being thrilled at the thought of her child — 
a little warm bundle depending blindly — utterly upon 
her to feed its baby mouth! A tiny mouth curved 
like Jules’? A tiny head like Jules’ nestling beneath 
her heart? Unbelievable wonderness. 

The doctor had put his instruments back in the bag 
and stood smiling quietly, near the bed. He petted the 
silken brown curls. “ You’re only a child yourself — 
there — there. Now you take this medicine as soon 
as possible — I’ll send it in to you — and relax and 
don’t worry. Everything is all right.” He turned to 
go. “ Eat enough to nourish that baby! ” 

When Fannie returned, she brought up the filled 
prescription. And Dory’s glowing eyes and smiling 
lips were eloquent of her recovery. 

Obeying the doctor’s orders, Fannie went quietly 
about the room — gave the patient her medicine and 
refrained from conversation. 

Relaxation brought Dory into her dream world. A 
pleasant world of beautiful things which all may have 
who invoke it. As her eyes closed, she was in the 
garden of a little house just outside of the clanging 
town — her home with Jules it was. A faded red brick 
path led from the quaint green door — a time-worn 
old path bordered with radiant Japanese irises. It 
wound its way through the garden to a trellised sum¬ 
mer house — where they were going to have tea — she 
and her lover Jules — so slender, he looked, so frail! 
She saw the beloved curve of his chin, his exquisite 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


M 3 


nose, and his eyes were dark with love thoughts. Ah, 
he was there — waiting, smiling, his tender boyish 
smile — and the dainty roses, a luxurious tangle on 
the trellis work, were his background. Hurrying to¬ 
wards him — the scented summer wind stirred her hair 
and the flowered organdie of her dress. “ My Dory! ” 
he murmured. “ You have told the maid there will 
be four people to tea? Ah, I’m so proud of you — 
girl dear — Father will think you more beautiful than 
ever to-day — I know I do! ” 

She gathered the silk shawl closer about her 
shoulders. 

“ You’re sure — my — I don’t look too — strange, 
Jules? ” 

But she was assured with his adorable smile — 

“ What if you did! Father is delighted — it’s 
mainly because of the baby to come that he’s helping 
us! ” 

Then she closed her eyes while his warm lips seemed 
to kiss them long — tenderly kissed her eyes and hair 
and mouth — she sighed. 

Clang! An awakening. The scene was reset quite 
suddenly in the gloomy boarding-house room. 

“ I told you not to ring that bell,” whispered Fannie 
to the slavey that brought the mail. “ Ain’t you the 
mean thing! ” 

“ A letter for Miss O’Moore,” responded the slavey. 

“ A letter for me? ” asked Dory, as she reached out 
eagerly and hastily tore it open. From Jules! Per¬ 
haps luck had turned — he may have sold his operetta 


144 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


— or who knows — he may have found a position for 
her in New York. Her pointed fingers trembled as 
she drew out the long missive. To a person out of love 
it sounds a silly letter. But to one of the people who 
are basking in that God’s favor — it is a missive full 
of intimate eloquence. 

“ You precious girl: — 

“ Do I love you better than anyone else in the 
world? Why, my darling! A thousand times yes! 
And you know it. How can you ever let a thought of 
anything else cross your mind? ” 

“ This forced separation maddens me — I feel like 
going out and digging ditches — people who do that 
can at least afford to have their wives with them. I’m 
disconsolate and the air is indigo blue around me. 
The thought of your working in that cheap company 

— with a lot of rotten cats, drives me almost frantic. 
I don’t seem to be able to get money anywhere. But 
cheer up, darling, luck can’t be down all the time. If 
there were only some way of talking to Father! He’s 
educated me as a musician — I am a musician — it 
is not a lucrative profession. The music business re¬ 
quires much backing before money can be made. But 
he is adamantine — he is more unapproachable than 
ever. 

“ Your idea of my teaching is a very wise one. It 
never occurred to me before! I had always thought 
somehow — that if one teaches one settles down to 
mediocrity and to failure. But as you say — when I 
am booked for a concert tour, my pupils can jolly w T ell 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


145 

wait for me till I come back. I’ve just put my last $10 
into the 1 Musical Topics,’ for an advertisement. And 
Felix’s wife, who has always been a good friend of 
mine, is going to see what she can do to get me pupils. 

“ Now don’t you worry — dear little soft dove — 
about ‘ other women ’ who will fall in love with me 
when I play — beautiful women, eh? — Dory girl 
— you are the only really beautiful woman in the 
world — you! you! you — my wife — do you know 
what that means to a man like me? You — I more 
than love — you I respect and adore! Why can’t I 
make you feel the all-enveloping, all-absorbing, big, 
perfect, normal love I have for you! I want you to 
feel the same great supreme confidence I do for you — 
I want you to feel as if I were your haven of comfort 
and rest. You can prove your love for me by being 
a brave dear one and know in your heart I am trying 
to end this separation of ours just as hard as you are. 
Of course for the moment there is no possibility. We 
should only mess things up — perhaps inextricably by 
attempting to show our cards, now. 

“ In the future we shall have as little separation 
as possible to make up for this — but oh God, how I 
want you now! 

“ Dory darling, in these charming day dreams of 
yours put that dear silky bronze head on my shoulder 
and snuggle up close in my arms. I can smell the 
scent of your hair in my nostrils and feel the sweet 
warmness of you near me. Ah, dear one, there will 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


146 

be no more troubles soon! Give me a kiss, you precious 
thing, and get a big sleep — there now. Good-night, 
dear. 

“ Your Jules.” 

Tap-tap at the door. Dropping her sewing, Fanny 
ran to open it. 

Again it was the slavey who announced in a piercing 
thin voice, “ Mrs. Schultz sez I’m not to come down 
without the rent from Miss O’Moore. She sez every 
one ’es paid but her.” 

In truth Dory had forgotten all about the last two 
weeks’ rent. That accounted for having five dollars to 
lend her friend. “ Oh, — Fanny,” she said. “ Do you 
mind giving me my pocket-book? ” She laughed away 
the lump that formed hard in her throat. Smiling — 
“ That is how I had five dollars extra — I thought it 
was funny — I — ” 

“ Well, ye owe four to Mrs. Schultz,” remarked the 
slavey — she of the businesslike manner, gingham 
apron and curl-papers. “ She wants it right away, too. 
She sez the gas-man hez to be paid — and she sez — ” 

“ Oh, here it is,” laughed Dory — “ if I were a mil¬ 
lionaire I’d tip you for being such a conscientious little 
messenger ...” 

“ As it is,” concluded Fannie, “ bring back the 
change as quick as you can! ” Then stroking Dory’s 
forehead gently, Fannie bade her lie down and rest 
quietly. 

“ Yes,” said Dory, the fact of her empty pocket- 
book now well in her mind, — “ yes, Fan, because I 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i47 


must get up and go to the theatre to-night — I — I 
feel much better, Fan. I — I can’t afford to be fined 
for not appearing — I must — ” 

“ But you still look a little feverish, dear — better 
stay in bed a few days more — an ounce of precaution 
is worth a pound of cure.” 

“ Oh no — it’s imperative that I go — I — ” 

The rest was unnecessary, for all too well did Fannie 
understand the luxury of recuperating in bed is not for 
an honest chorus girl. “ Then you must eat something 
— some eggs and a cup of tea and — ” 

“ Yes, but go easy, Fan, that dollar has to last till — 
I get paid again — I — ” but the tears welled up in her 
throat. Clutching her cherished letter closer under the 
covers, she smiled bravely with her lips, but those 
brooding eyes held in them the truth and it touched 
Fannie’s sympathetic heart. 

“ Well,” said Fannie, “ we’ll figure it out. Now 
there’s rice and milk is cheap and let’s see — ” 

“ Yes — yes,” said Dory eagerly. “ Rice and milk 
are very nourishing, aren’t they, Fannie? I must have 
nourishing — ” just then a tap at the door. The land¬ 
lord’s tap-tap. Is there anything worse in hard times? 
“ That little skinflint won’t get her sharp nose in this 
time,” said Fannie. Laying the pad and pencil with 
much finality on the table she went to answer. Lo! 
there met her eyes a rare sight — a round-faced, red¬ 
faced messenger boy stood holding a huge basket of 
fruit. 

“ Just in the nick of time,” said Fannie. 


148 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ It always is,” sighed Dory. 

“ Well, you don’t seem very delighted. I sup¬ 
pose whoever sent it — here’s the card, a Mr. Balster 
— ‘ best wishes for a speedy recovery! ’ I suppose 
you don’t like him, whoever he is! ” By this time, 
Fannie was busily unwrapping a box of fresh eggs that 
she found just under a heavy cluster of dark grapes. 
“ But,” continued she — “ we’ll like his food — you 
bet, whoever he is! I’ll tell you that.” 

I really ought to send it back, Fan,” Dory sighed 
as she fell against her pillow and gazed at the splendid 
basket with solemn wistful eyes. “ But there’s some¬ 
thing funny about that fruit. It’s like a person — the 
temptress of St. Anthony or something. When I’m at 
rock-bottom it turns up always more alluring at that 
moment than any — anything! and I’ve never had 
character enough to resist it! ” 

“ Let me tell you something, dearie, — there’s no 
such thing as character on an empty stomach ” — 
Fannie cracked the white stamped egg into the 
chafing-dish. “ Character flees from an empty 
stomach like the devil from holy water! ” 

Dory wondered what her friend would say if she 
should tell her the whole truth! 

“ That baby ” was so wildly hungry and the first 
meal she gave it consciously, was mingled with 
ecstatic pleasure and sinister fears. And realizing 
that she and Jules’ child were being fed by Harry 
Balster made life nothing short of weird. She longed 
to pour out the whole story to Fannie, this sympa- 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


149 


thetic friend of the fussy hair, pulled-in waist, large 
motherly breast, and ever-ready aphorisms, hungering 
for talk about babies and things maternal with a 
mother. But Jules would not like it. Jules had 
asked her under no condition to tell anyone of their 
marriage. Then a new fear came — suppose Jules 
should not want — the baby? Her heart went sad 
and she must have turned quite pale for quickly 
Fannie gave her some medicine and then fed her 
the nice hot lunch. 

“ Ah, heigh-ho!” sighed Dory. “ My tummy 
feels much better now — though I’d hate Harry Bal- 
ster to know about it — yet — ” The girl made a 
little moue. “ I must give him credit for being the 
hand of God at times in my life — in the form of a 
basket of food! ” 

“Well,” Fannie was scraping the dishes — her 
freckled face slightly flushed from the unexpected 
repast. “ Don’t you worry about anything now ” — 
Fannie stopped — her arms akimbo and grey eyes 
staring. “ Suppose you wuz like me and had two 
kids to support! Ha! Then you’d have trouble — 
why sometimes I think they haven’t enough to eat 
— or somethin’s the trouble an’ I nearly go out of 
my mind. You have no one but yourself to think 
about! Cheer up! cutie! ” Fannie shook her head. 
“ You don’t know wot trouble is, you don’t! ” 

Dory felt beneath her heart vaguely — tenderly 
patting the soft ivory skin. “ Would you give one of 
your babies away to someone — who’d — perhaps 
give you a lot of money for one? ” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


150 

“ Oh,” gasped Fannie, “ Give away one — never 
— why ” — the plain face lighted up beneath the 
frizzy light brown hair — “ why if you wuz to see 
Donnie — his name’s John ye know, but his sister 
called him 1 Donnie ’ — so we do. Oh — there’s a 
cute little feller for you! His eyes is as big as 
saucers — reely — no exaggeration, the finest boy I 
ever seen — an’ when I go home I’m glad to see 
them kids I kin tell you, dearie. I wouldn’t give my 
Mazie or my Donnie for a million dollars, I wouldn’t.” 

“ Well, then — why do you envy me for being 
alone? ” 

“ Oh, that’s different — when ye don’t have ’em — 
ye don’t miss ’em, and ye suttenly have an easier 
time of it.” Fannie wrung out the dish towel — then 
stopped and added in a ministerial tone she kept for 
her cherished aphorisms: “ Ye may not have ’em to 
bring ye joy — but it’s sure then, they’d bring ye no 
tears, neither — and that’s an old sayin’ and it’s a 
true one, it is! An’ husbands is no joke neither, 
dearie — husbands is men — after all — an’ no matter 
how much a woman does for ’em they look down on 
her — that’s why women want the vote, ye can’t blame 
them fer it — dearie. No one can’t blame ’em.” 

Hearing a knock, Fannie went to open. There 
was a whispered conversation with the ‘ slavey.’ 
“ Excuse me a minute, dearie — are ye all right till 
I come up? ” 

On the affirmative Fannie tossed her apron on a 
chair and went out. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


151 

Presently she returned — “ Now dearie — who do 
you think that wuz? — Not the musician fellow as 
I think you’re kind 0’ daffy about — ” 

“ Fannie, tell me at once. Is it a man called 
Harry Balster? Tell me! I won’t see him — why 
did I eat that stuff he sent? O — 00 — ” 

But Fannie went over and sat on the bed. Having 
flown downstairs to see “ a friend who wanted to ask 
her just how serious was Miss O’Moore’s condition,” 
she had met a genial, very well-groomed, tall, stout 
gentleman, who introduced himself as Mr. Balster. 
He impressed her with his respectful anxiety and 
persuaded her to intercede for him — a person who 
appreciated Miss O’Moore’s beauty and talent and 
wished to be nothing more than an ‘ artistic father ’ 
— if she would but permit him to help her. 

“ Miss O’Moore and I have had a misunderstand¬ 
ing and I feel I must have a personal interview with 
her. You,” he said to the fluttering Fannie, “ I can 
see are a young woman of discretion and can under¬ 
stand such an interview would be to Miss O’Moore’s 
advantage.” 

The flattered girl sat on the lumpy bed, determined 
to be successful in her mission. For would it not be 
best for her beloved Dory? 

“ Now, dearie,” she began, “ you did eat the fruit, 
there’s no use in talkin’, — you done it. And the 
man that sent it to you may have had a misunder¬ 
standing with you — like he sez, but take it from 
me, dearie, he didn’t mean it — an’ if I ever met a 


152 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


elegant han’some gentleman in my life, he’s it! Such 
a fine big head! And skin like a baby’s. We don’t 
git many friendships in this life — so when anyone 
is inclined that way — as respectful as he is — try 
to overlook their faults, dearie — and remember — ” 
Fannie paused while she gathered force and diction 
for an especially beloved aphorism — “ A friend in 
need is a friend indeed! An’ a rich man can help, 
dearie, never ferget that a woman kin always use a 
rich man, just as a rich man kin want a pretty woman 
like you are, dearie.” 

Dory lay back on her pillows. The pale proud mouth 
drooped. She begged Fannie not to let him in. But 
before she knew it Balster was standing over her, 
clasping her hand in his soft clammy one, and im¬ 
mediately terror shook her form so that her teeth 
chattered. 

“ I want to help you, Dory,” he was saying. 

“ But — but listen to me — I appreciate this kind 
offer and all that — but — ” 

“ Now — ” Balster waved away all obstruction 
with one sweeping gesture — “ there’s nothing for you 
to do but accept — there’s not another man in the 
world who’d do this kind of thing — if you don’t 
love me I don’t give a da— I don’t care! ” 

“ But —He —” 

Another obliviating gesture as he turned his 
enormous body on the little squeaking chair — 
“ When you’re ready to go on the Broadway stage, 
I have lots of money and I’m a politician. You get 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i 53 


the best there is — I’m a politician, Dory — they’re 
the people who make the laws.” 

Dory sat up in bed feeling faint and fearful of 
Balster as he quivered with his platonic passion for 
her. She called the faithful listening Fannie, “ Give 
me a little medicine, please, dear.” 

Fannie complied — smiling on Mr. Balster — then 
returned to her post just outside the door. “ You 
must let me talk now, Harry. I’m going to confide 
in you — utterly.” 

“ Yes, dear, tell me everything — that’s what I’m 
going to do to you, too.” He wiped the perspiration 
off his alarmingly red brow and gazed at her with 
that love-sick, hang-dog expression. 

Clenching her hands beneath the covers, Dory be¬ 
gan— 

“ Harry — you know Jules Blenner? ” 

“ Yes, yes — I know that whole crowd. I know 
Blenner and that little reporter Harrington and Felix 
Strange who used to come to the house so much and 
funny enough — the best friend I have is Mrs. Felix 
Strange ” — and pride swelled his throat as he men¬ 
tioned the name of the society leader. 

“ Oh, really — is she nice? ” The girl leaned for¬ 
ward eagerly. “ I’ve never met her! ” 

“ Of course you haven’t. Felix takes good care 
not to introduce any of the Sand crowd to his wife — 
even though he doesn’t care a rap for her. Of course 
Jules knows her — he being Felix/s cousin. Now 
there ? s the crowd we’ll move in, Dory — that’s real 
class — it’s — ” 


154 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ Is — is she beautiful? ” For some reason Dory 
felt very curious about this woman. 

“ Oh yes — wonderful — the vampire type, you 
know — the talented Jules is one of her special bou¬ 
doir pets.” 

Almost audibly did Dory’s heart pound. Yet she 
scorned the idea of jealousy. But it was useless to 
feign lack of interest. And Balster noted this in¬ 
terest and quickly proceeded: “ Oh, yes, Jules sits 
up at the piano and plays — and all the ladies think 
he’s just the nicest thing. Margot Strange wouldn’t 
part with him for worlds! ” 

This brought Dory very suddenly to her point. 

“ Harry, listen to me — if I ever needed a friend 
I need one now. I’m going to confess to you — but 
promise me first you will not tell it to a soul — until 
I give you permission.” 

“ I promise, dear — anything you ask. With me 
you only have to wish a thing — that’s all. I obey.” 
Dory winced. Then she whispered softly, dis¬ 
tinctly — 

“ Jules Blenner is my husband.” 

Feeling too dazed to speak — sitting on the creak¬ 
ing chair, he jumped to his feet and pushed it sud¬ 
denly away. “ You don’t mean to say you married 
that little piano-player? ” 

“ Don’t call him ‘ little ’ — he’s a great genius.” 

Balster started to walk up and down the floor — 
shaking his head so that the fleshy cheeks wobbled 
and twitching his mouth in silent rage. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


iS5 


Finally he stopped. And looking down at the 
solemn troubled eyes, all fury fled as her beauty struck 
him anew and his voice broke in his throat as rage 
struggled with sensual desire. 

“ You poor child — this is an awful mess you’ve 
gotten yourself into. He marries you—ithen lets 
you root for yourself in a third-rate show — working 
you to death! While he— ! ” 

Balster waved his thick hand and shrugging his 
shoulders — “ he’s enjoying good dinners at Margot 
Strange’s and all the other society leaders’. You bet 
he knows better than to interject a good-looking wife 
at this stage of the game! ” 

“ But Harry, if you’re going to talk like that, 
you’re no friend of mine.” The brown curls fell 
around the oval of her face as she raised herself and 
added with quiet severity: “ We’d better end this 
unpleasant interview right here.” 

But Harry Balster only saw that anger made her 
flush as pink as coral, and he hastened to continue the 
interview. “ Well, that’s just it. I am a friend of 
yours, and I won’t see your life ruined by an egotisti¬ 
cal little piano-player like him.” Then, with a heavy 
thud, he dropped to his knees. “ Dory, that fellow 
has proven that he doesn’t love you — can’t you see 
he’s proven it — by leaving you this way. Listen, 
dear — I’ll send my car around tonight — you get 
out of this and come to me. I’ll arrange everything.” 

“ No — you — ” but Dory could not stop his 
speech as he bent over her, a giant with a fat purple 
head, cruelly clasping the cold little hands. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


156 

“ I’m a politician. I can arrange your divorce with¬ 
out any trouble. Only come to me for God’s sake, 
let me make you a queen as you deserve, instead of a 
bedraggled little beggar — married to that — ” 
Shaking herself free, Dory gathered all her force 

— “I tell you it’s impossible. I can’t understand 
your caring for me — you don’t wish my friend¬ 
ship — now — nor my love — I know you, Harry 
Balster. You like people who are young — and — 
and when you think they’re pretty. I won’t give you 
even my friendship — I — ” 

But he interrupted — “ This is because of that 
sneak,” he cried. “ That Jules Blenner getting you 
before me — 1 who have all the money you’d want — 
Jules Blenner — that little — parlor snake! ” 

“ Mr. Balster, I wish to end this conversation. I 
am a married woman — ” Dory raised herself and 
tilted her childish rounded chin in her pride — “I 
am Mrs. Jules Blenner.” 

In a moment the man was on his feet — not a 
vestige of tenderness left — nothing but the animal 
fury of a hungry passion. “ Well, go to him — suffer 
along through years of privation. I know his father 

— he’ll see that you have privation all right — he 
believes in it. It is formative for the young! And 

— er — some time — ” he drew himself up — “ when 
Harry Balster is Ambassador — Governor — Senator 

— in some public office, — permit me to bow to the 
little musician’s wife! ” 

“ Ask you a favor — you? ” cried the girl. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i57 

On the verge of tears of fury, Dory spoke low so 
that her voice was scarcely audible, thereby holding 
his attention perfectly. “ You a representative of 
this country? Never! I’d put you out of your cow¬ 
ardly low business if it’s the last thing I do on earth! 
Your power will not be so great Harry Balster, when 
child labor is abolished from this country and you 
will be held as a horrible example — a Beast who 
fattened on the toil of little children! ” 

He rushed toward her — 

“ Fannie! —Fannie! ” cried Dory. 

“ Yes — now, dear” — Fannie answered the sum¬ 
mons immediately. 

“ Please show him — ” But before Dory could 
finish he had brushed by the startled Fanny and was 
gone. 

That night Harry Balster wrote to Felix’s wife: — 
“ My dear Margot — 

“ I see your faithful swain — Jules — has forsaken 
you, got a chorus girl — Doreen O’Moore — whom 
he married a couple of months ago. It’s being kept 
secret I believe — as women keep secrets. Every¬ 
one but the old man knows about it. She’s a cute 
little thing, but given a good taste of poverty — it 
won’t last long from the way their affairs are run¬ 
ning. I’m enclosing a picture from the Gazette of 
the young lady in tights entitled ‘ The beautiful Dory 
O’Moore’s legs.’ For some reason she seems to have 
it in for you. I fancy that already Jules wishes 
himself free. At any rate it’s another perfect dinner 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


158 

guest gone bad on us. Thought this picture and the 
story would amuse our whole crowd (won’t old Blen- 
ner fume!). 

“ All the homage of 

“ Yours sincerely, 

“ Harry.” 

And as it had transpired, Balster had with cruel 
cunning shot his arrow in the bull’s-eye. 

For one week later Dory while aboard the Empire 
State Express en route to New York, saw some 
startling headlines in the evening “ Cryer,” — Musi¬ 
cian, son of millionaire John Blenner— Married to 
chorus girl — Doreen O’Moore — a girl whose pretty 
legs may be seen on this week’s Police Gazette. 
She- 



CHAPTER XV 


T HE outlook seemed pretty bleak for Dory, but • 
on arriving at the New York station, her hus¬ 
band had hurried on the platform and enfolded 
her in his arms. Looking up into his dark eyes all 
the troubles fled, all ugliness disappeared. To him, 
feeling her dear warm life made all the world seem 
insignificant beside her. They disappeared through 
the myriads of little human spots hurrying away to 
be swallowed up in the subway. They were being 
jostled by a busy throng, and then, after crossing 
streets, dodging many moving huge machines, horses, 
street-cars, they arrived at last in a big room at the 
top of an old-fashioned private house on Washing¬ 
ton Square. 

And there the light burned softly through a purple- 
shaded lamp and lovers were within the walls of their 
castle, and below — the ground— (in truth Washing¬ 
ton Park) was bathed in limpid blues and golds and 
the outlines of buildings were lost in the spell of the 
twilight. As they looked out over the park their 
hearts expanded with pride — with ownership! Their 
blood throbbed exuberantly through their veins as 
they gazed upon it together. “ Doesn’t the park look 
lovely, dear? ” whispered Dory. And no king owned 
more implicitly his beautiful estate or took more pride 

159 


160 INVISIBLE WINGS 

in it than Jules as he smiled acquiescence and sug¬ 
gested a walk around the grounds after dinner. 

Holding the small curved face in his hands he 
gazed at the rare beauty of it. The cleanness of her 
soul touched him. He kissed her hair, her eyes and 
mouth. 

People seemed to draw aside to let them pass. A 
girl with long rounded limbs walking with graceful 
indolence on the arm of the slender poetic lover in 
whose eyes the fire divine burned. And they smiled 
at people, not knowing why, and were all unconscious 
that these outsiders looked back at them with hunger 
in their hearts as they paid homage to youth and 
romance. When they came back it was time to 
turn the soft lights on the big room that was home. 
The world became surrounded by four walls done in 
quiet brown; against one was a baby grand piano, 
against another, four chairs and an empty desk — 
a grate fire burned dimly in another. Through a low 
white door she saw that candles were lighted in the 
small attic bedroom. Through the low white door 
— his bedroom. 

“ Oh, we have talked about nothing but ourselves, 
dear, we must decide what is to be done about your 
father — he will never receive what the papers call 
4 a chorus girl/ ” Dory thought of the vulgar “ Avec 
Plaizir ” and shuddered. There was indeed the 
chorus girl type. 

But again Jules’ strong arms were around her 
crushing her closer and in his eyes the strange fire 


INVISIBLE WINGS 161 

burned, and illuminated Dory’s sad ones and made 
them both creatures of another world. 

“ We must decide,” she whispered — vaguely — 
through her moist lips pressed to his. 

“ Yes — tomorrow,” he answered and his embrace 
caused her hair to fall an auburn cloud over her ivory 
face and together they passed through the low white 
door. 


Her slender hands pouring his coffee in the morn¬ 
ing would have made Jules a happy man indeed had 
it not been for a certain note in his hand. 

The landlord wrote in dispassionate terms the fact 
that Mr. Blenner might pay up four months back 
rent or vacate the premises. 

“ What is it — you are not drinking your coffee, 
dear? ” inquired Dory. And as she said it a pre¬ 
monition of trouble passed through her brain. 

“ No — that is, yes, it’s all right, dear.” He gulped 
the coffee, crumpling the note in his hand; as he 
looked from it to his lovely dependent mate, he felt 
like a weakling doomed to carry a great marble statue 
of Venus around the world on his back. 

But like many husbands he said nothing of his 
fear to his wife, who, like many wives, had already 
guessed the contents of the letter and was seeking 
the best solution to the situation in her clever mind. 

To be sure the hundred dollars a month Jules’ 
father allowed him would come on the morrow. But 


i 62 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


then he must pay the landlord for back rent and 
there would not be one cent for food. No matter 
how aesthetically beautiful a woman may be she 
requires at least one meal a day — whereas Jules 
could, as he often had, eat at free lunches and the 
houses of adoring friends. 

Then what effect would the news of the marriage 
have upon his father? Suppose he discontinued the 
hundred dollars a month allowance? What then? 

It was summer. He could get no pupils in town. 
There was not a possibility of a concert. To be sure 
a fortune was within his grasp if — if he might be 
properly introduced to the concert public. Narlow, 
the impresario, offered to launch him as America’s 
greatest pianist. Narlow had perfect confidence in 
his genius and assured him of success — but five 
thousand dollars would have to be raised as financial 
backing. With this amount fifty contracts for the 
following year were guaranteed, all high paying ones. 

To date, Jules’ father had stubbornly refused the 
money, giving as his reason that he thought it absurd 
for a man to have to pay for the privilege of doing 
his work. All Jules’ explanation that money was 
needed for press work — the manager’s travelling 
expenses during the time of making the bookings — 
numerous other expenses in order to work on a broad 
scale — fell on deaf ears. And his operetta, which 
he had written to Jack Harrington’s lyrics, had been 
returned by all the managers in New York. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 163 

“ Jules, tell me what it is,” pleaded his wife. “ Talk 
to me. You are worried about your father — ” 

“ You see, Dory, it is impossible for me to play 
just now without financial backing — Narlow is a 
good manager — but he needs money — money for 
his travelling expenses — money — lots of it for ad¬ 
vertising — the launching of an artist depends en¬ 
tirely upon that — articles in magazines — it’ll cost 
$1000 for one musical paper alone. This is essential 
for the musical clubs throughout the country — they 
look in there to see what and who is an artist. Money 
for the daily press — for certain cities — it will cost 
$5000 the first year. The second year I could make 
expenses. The third year I should be known and 
sought by managers — my compositions recognized, 
appreciated, and I should tread the upper paths — 
for which I am trained and capable. If father refuses 
this — no one else will give it. Outsiders would think 
it too uncertain an investment, and the alternative 
will be I’ll just teach and play in little orchestras and 
be middle class.” He waved his hands and walked 
across the floor while this idea presented itself to 
him. He pressed his temple as to shut out the re¬ 
volting sight. 

“ I — ” he cried, “ it would kill me! I must have 
a big career! I can play all around anyone — Dory 
— I can bring them to my feet.” Then impulsively 
he took her head in his hands and kissed her. “ Dory, 
it is for you I want all this, you sweet thing.” Quietly 
Dory took him in her arms. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


164 

“ I,” she whispered, “ I have deprived you of your 
chance. That is what you mean — remember, to 
begin with, you are more fortunate than most people 
for you possess a precious jewel — it is the command 
of your musical powers. Try to be grateful to your 
father for that. Having it, you can always make 
your living in the conservatory.” 

“ But,” Jules began in protest. “ As a damn teacher 
of a lot of bone-heads? ” he inquired truculently. “ I 
have a genius,” he declared, “ it is a precious jewel — 
as you say, and I should hope to tell you it requires an 
expensive setting! ” — he laughed a little, relieving the 
tense situation, and kissed Dory’s hand and so she 
smiled and acquiesced. In fact it seemed a logical 
statement. In her mind he was different from most 
people, he needed not only the jewel — but the setting 
as well. She said, “ I know, Jules — the chance may 
have been small before of your father investing money 
in your career, but now it is nothing at all. Oh, Juley 
— if I can only help, dear one — I will.” 

“ I don’t see that you can help much unless you 
get a good job — and you see you have no experience 
or training to speak of, and — well — not that I 
care a damn for myself — but you know, dear, we 
haven’t any money — when I pay my rent tomorrow 
we’ll scarcely have a cent left.” It had been said, 
and he flung himself around on the chair. “ I’m 
sorry to have to tell you this.” 

It was with a heavy heart Dory smiled and laid 
her cheek against his forehead. “ Dearest, we have 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


165 

married — it was the best thing for us to do — and 
now we’ll carry it through. I’ll think out a way — 
go to see your father now and — later I’ll get a 
small part in a good show — and — ” 

But Jules kissed her hand and stopped her — “I 
don’t like to discourage you, dear, but I’m afraid 
we’re up against it at this time of year; there is noth¬ 
ing in town for you or me.” He drew back and ran 
his fingers through his shining black hair as his dark 
face became livid with fury. “ God,” he muttered, 
“ whoever published that news of our marriage has 
my curse, I tell you that. I hope they’ll suffer for 
it — just as they are making me suffer now. I had 
just about gotten father prepared, and a little later 
everything would have been all right.” 

Once more Dory took him in her arms but he re¬ 
mained rigid, grinding his teeth and scowling — “I 
mean it! ” I was just accustoming father to the idea 
and arranging things so that he’d meet you first and 
see that you are a lady. That! ” he pointed to the 
newspaper, “ spoils the whole damn thing.” With 
an impatient gesture he pushed away the cup of fresh 
coffee Dory had just poured him. 

Tears welled up in her throat. But immediately 
they were controlled and in a quiet voice she reasoned 
with him, advised him — subjugated him. 

For the first time he had been almost cross with 
her. And though she realized there was cause, light 
was thrown on Jules’ nature; when fortune turned from 
him he complained to the person he loved best — the 


i66 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


person for whom he wanted everything, and a tender 
smile hovered on Dory’s lips as she noted this trait 
in his character. “ You poor boy,” she whispered. 

When Dory was alone, looking out over the little 
park, she began to think. 

Life is an art. Happiness can only be produced 
by tolerance — understanding. Her Jules as a musi¬ 
cian was a great musician — as a man, he was a 
wilful child. She would try to understand. She would 
pray, too, for tolerance. 

The situation seemed hopeless for Dory — Jules 
would never do a man’s work. Darkness surrounded 
her. Slowly the girl dropped to her knees and for a 
long time remained vaguely fingering her little imi¬ 
tation pearl necklace. Over and over she repeated 
a fervent prayer — “ God send me light.” Finally the 
clouds cleared away, and the world semed a far-off 
temple of devotion to a merciful God who listened 
to her prayers. 

In God Dory had perfect faith, and this faith and 
nearness to Him always came after an hour so spent 
in the silence with her rosary and thought of Him ever 
before her. 

“ Dear Lord,” she prayed, “ You have given my 
husband talent for music — You have touched his 
brain with the magic of genius, surely You could not 
mean to have it crushed.” Again the rosary over and 
over and her slender body swaying to the rhythm of 
it. “ Dear God,” she prayed, “ You are giving me a 
little child ” — and at this thought the tears welled 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


167 

up in her limpid eyes and flowed silently down her 
soft rounded face — “ Oh, God, You do not mean 
that it has come only to complicate our lives — only 
come for its own unhappiness.” Then the light 
seemed really to have dawned — her baby — his pink 
dimpled face seemed almost beneath her enfolding 
hand. And over her spread almost affection for Jules’ 
father. Of course he was cynical and mean, but any¬ 
one who suffered from dyspepsia, as Jules said his 
father did, would feel mean. 

The girl was happy — why had she not told Jules 
— ah, even if he came home from his father’s unsuc¬ 
cessful, disconsolate, she would not be sad — because 
on the morrow she herself would go to his father with 
the wonderful news of the happiness he was to have. 

As if some rain from heaven had poured a merciful 
shower upon a dying rose the young mother relaxed 
and sobbed; all thoughts fled; she lay down upon the 
lounge near the piano, and her eyelids became heavy. 
“ Light, dear God, You have sent me light,” she 
breathed. The eyelids became heavier still and she 
felt a strange palpitating warmness beneath her heart. 

Outlines of the room disappeared, nothing existed, 
only the memory of a long, wonderful night — the 
spirit of love enfolded her — Jules — he would bury 
his face in her hair and she would whisper in his 
ears the news — a baby! The sweet rounded head — 
the soft cuddling body — close — close to her life — 
his father’s eyes — yes, yes, large black eyes with the 



i 68 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


ardor of the South in them — always, always, she 
would love them so — and the tiny mouth — ah, she 
must take a glass of nice warm milk — eat nourishing 
things. Baby — the warmness made her somnolent, 
and the tear on Dory’s soft cheek was only a tear of 
maternal brooding, and in another moment the girl- 
mother fell sound asleep. 

• ••••••• 

Two hours passed before Dory awakened and, not 
expecting Jules home for luncheon, she decided to 
go and see poor old Zoe. “ Zodie shall hear my 
secret,” said Dory to herself as she put some finish¬ 
ing touchings on cleaning up the apartment. She 
patted the white bed and peered into closets and was 
thrilled to see them look so well. Her belongings she 
would put in a box which she would cover in cretonne 
and put under the bed. Then Jules would have the 
one bureau all to himself. For a moment she paused 
and wondered if he would permit her to make this 
sacrifice. (I must tell you, he certainly did and quite 
without a thought in the matter!) 

It was twelve o’clock — luncheon time. Surely it 
would not be a considerate thing for her to impose on 
the Sands for a meal. She had no news of Zoe since 
those two letters on luxurious stationery; of course, on 
second thought, that meant nothing. It would be 
just like Zoe to spend her last dollar on such foolish¬ 
ness. She would buy a bottle of milk for eight cents, 
plenty of milk for the baby, and some buns for three 
and so have her lunch in Zodie’s room. They had 


INVISIBLE WINGS 169 

changed their boarding-house, for she saw their ad¬ 
dress on Jules’ telephone card. It was number “ 542 
Park Avenue.” She would have to ask the janitor 
how to get there. 

On went the black hat and the grey princess dress 
— a little tight now, that princess dress — but that 
was a mere trifle. In Dory’s heart there was nothing 
but content and hope. Then too, poor Zoe probably 
needed comforting — someone with whom to talk over 
her troubles! 

The janitor said she could buy her milk at the 
corner and go up Fifth Avenue to 54th Street on a 
’bus and then walk over to Park Avenue. 

And all of this was done. For surely she had made 
a mistake in the number for the palatial apartment 
house could not be Zoe’s residence! Excusing her¬ 
self to the man in livery at the door of this number, 
who promptly scowled upon her load of bread and 
milk bottle — “ Excuse me,” said Dory. “ I think I 
have the wrong address. It’s Miss Zoe Sand I want 
to see.” 

“ Well, she is on the sixth floor, miss, but all pack¬ 
ages are delivered at the other door — right round 
the side entrance, please.” 

And Dory found herself being escorted by him of 
the brass buttons to the servants’ entrance and indeed 
had arrived at the sign before she protested. 

“ But no — no — I am a friend of Miss Sand’s — 
I—-I — ” 

“ A what? ” 


170 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ A friend —I — ” and Dory was headed, hugging 
her package, for the front door — “I — ” 

“ What name, please? ” asked he of the solemn 
importance. “ I’ll send your name up to Miss Sand.” 

“ Miss — that is, ahem — Mrs. — er — Miss Do¬ 
reen O’Moore.” 

Once more the flunkey looked her over and then 
announced the name to the switchboard operator. 

The only feeling Dory had was in the arms squeez- 

/ 

ing her packages. 

“ Come right up, please.” 

And, stepping in a mirrored elevator, another 
flunkey beckoned her. 

A maid dressed in grey with white cap and apron 
answered the door. 

“ Miss Sand? ” faltered Dory. 

“ Yes, ma’am, you’re to come in.” This very chic 
person reached for Dory’s packages and in giving her 
the bread, poor Dory spilt the milk all over the price¬ 
less carpet. Confusion overwhelmed her, but the 
Irish maid took one look at her and the debris and 
burst out laughing, and Dory promptly embraced her 
and walked right on into the salon. In an instant 
this had happened. It was all too fantastic. 

While listening to her heart pound audibly, Dory 
stood in the middle of the sumptuous room, bravely 
endeavoring to grasp the situation. 

So, this was Zoe’s apartment? She looked around. 
A large room done in amethystine tones. On the 
walls paneled in grey wood two pictures were isolated, 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i 7 i 

— a brilliant fantasy by Gaston Le Touch and one 
of Romney’s Lady Hamilton. Some strange trans¬ 
parent moonlight blue silk hung at the long French 
windows, and it cast a mysterious light upon the 
French furniture which was upholstered in amethyst 
brocades, and the thick plain violet rug near by, which 
nearly covered the grey floor. Here and there a bijou 
of rare value, just giving the proper accent, and as 
Dory gazed at one of these — a red Chinese porcelain, 
she saw a laughing-eyed Dryad in the doorway — a 
vision whose skin gleamed through floating chiffons. 
Dory felt as if she must examine that too, but in 
another instant with a high-pitched cry the “ vision ” 
rushed towards her and the two girls were clasped 
in each other's embrace. 

Zoe stood off that Dory might gaze in admiration. 
If it might be called a tea-gown it was a violet one. 
But a drapery of violet chiffon would be a more apt 
description of this filmy cloud. And on her feet, 
purple slippers with gleaming buckles and flesh-colored 
stockings that could be seen through the chiffon at 
least to her knees. Rubies in delicate Cartier set¬ 
tings were on her slender throat, and to Dory it 
seemed as if her friend had been remoulded by God 

— so wonderfully were her charms emphasized by her 
clothes and surroundings. 

“ Well, booby, don’t stand there like a dunce — tell 
me what you think of it! ” demanded Zoe. 

“Why, it’s lovely! ” said Dory. One had to say 
something. It seemed to her there never was such a 


172 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


pitiful looking dunce as she must be — Zoe was fairly 
radiant. Dory r s feet seemed to grow to a gigantic 
size, a way they had when she became conscious of 
her poor clothes, and how miserably conscious we do 
become of them when in the presence of well-dressed 
friends or enemies — particularly well-dressed ene¬ 
mies. 

“ For the love o’ Mike, who’s your fairy god'- 
mother? ” inquired Dory. 

“ Oh, ha,” laughed Zoe, as she went right up the 
scale in the spectacular old laugh the nuns so objected 
to in the convent — “ Ha! there ain’t no such animal 
as a fairy godmother! For a girl, Dory, the story 
goes like this — ” and Zoe touched her jeweled fingers 
together and began in a low monotonous voice: 
“ There once was a fairy godfather who gave the 
beautiful present girl (indicating herself) her chance 
— and three wishes.” 

“ Three wishes if she took the chance,” supplied 
Dory. 

Then, jewels, violet drapery and all — Dory en¬ 
folded Zoe in her protecting young arms. 

“ Now, don’t preach,” laughed Zoe. 

But before Dory could answer, the curtains parted 
and now Dory really did rub her eyes — for there in 
the doorway a tall dark man appeared in his lounging 
robe. It was Felix Strange. 

• ••••••# 

Strange quickly excused himself and went to his 
room to dress. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i 73 


While Dory was being led to Zoe’s bedroom a mil¬ 
lion muddled thoughts seemed to fly through her head 
as the whole situation began to dawn upon her. 

“ Zoe, I can’t believe it/’ she whispered. “ Zoe — ” 
“ Well, what do you think of me? ” demanded Zoe 
through her half-closed eyes. “ Am I not a smart 
girl to make a catch like dear old Felix? ” 

“ But, dearest, when did all this happen — tell me.” 
“ Ye gods, you look like a young funeral! Believe 
me the time you should have looked like that was 
when I left you and came back to town. Mommie 
was 1 spiffed ’ all the time and had no money — Jack 
Harrington certainly had no money — nothing but 
nasty misery. Ugh!' Then Felix just out of the 
sanitarium needing sympathy which he didn’t get from 
that cat of a wife of his — gee! ” Zoe’s eyes became 
two disks of black rage. “ She was always so re¬ 
spectable — she couldn’t know anybody — spends her 
life with a lot of ‘ proteges ’ — really parlor snakes. 
So — anyway to continue, dearie, Felix and I had 
some cute little luncheons together, you see — I made 
him crazy about me — and it was partly my sugges¬ 
tion that after he sent poor old Mommie to an expen¬ 
sive sanatorium that he and I should take a little 
flat together and — people think he’s a relative of 
Mommie’s — we’ve a brand new set of friends — ” 
“ But, Jack,” whispered Dory, for she knew that 
must be secret — “ what became of poor old Jack 
Harrington? ” 

“ Sh-sh! ” whispered Zoe. “ You don’t suppose I’ve 


174 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


given up Jack? ” Zoe’s eyes turned up more than 
ever at the corners and she gritted the sharp white 
teeth beneath the large mouth, then she whispered, 
“ Now I have everything I desire in the world — 
money — beautiful things — love, and I shall always 
love Jack. “ Dory,” she whispered, “ you are the only 
one in the world that knows that, — you and Mom- 
mie.” 

“ But how can you see him now, dear? ” 

“ How? Stupid! He comes here — poor old Felix 
never suspects me — you shall meet him at dinner — 
at card parties. In fact I’ve taken up bridge as an 
excuse to have to call Jack in to make a fourth.” 

Dory shivered — “ Ugh — Zodie — my girl — I’m 
afraid for you, dear — I’m — ” The purple lights 
filled her eyes and made the brown of them almost 
blue as her heart went sad for Zoe. 

“ Don’t shiver, stupid child —i really all the re¬ 
spectable married women I have ever known had a 
lover — that’s being done in our polite society, Dory. 
Felix is like a husband though we are not married; 
he’s a dear old thing who pays the bills. We get on 
splendidly — he’s mad about me and protects my 
reputation by pretending to people he’s Mommie’s 
relative, and we’re very happy together — what more 
can a woman want — I ask you? ” 

Dory looked at her — “ You made Felix crazy 
about you wilfully, Zodie? For money — knowing 
your heart belongs to Jack? ” 

Clinching those vicious even white teeth, dilating 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i75 


the thin nostrils, Zoe looked at Dory once more in 
that curious way she had — through the half-closed, 
dimly-burning eyes. “ Yes,” she said, stretching her 
body like a healthy young animal, “ I made him.” 
And Dory understood. 

For had she not seen Zoe move men at will, seen 
her many times speak to men with her eyes — black 
disks beneath a tangle of dark hair — eyes that said 
evil things. In a room she would walk past a man 
and though she did not touch him he felt her strange 
animal allure. And unhappy indeed was the man 
she willed to her side, who wished not to yield — for 
no matter how chaste his moral nature, she wound 
herself in his dreams day and night like an exotic 
perfume from the east — perfume intangible — sen¬ 
sual — maddening. 

“ Come on in and see my bedroom, Dory — I want 
to know what you think of it. I did the decorating 
myself.” 

And indeed the room expressed the girl — for there 
was a touch of the mediaeval in Zoe. The bedroom 
in this house was decorated of all things with holy 
crucifixes! An exquisite one of old ivory hung on a 
piece of antique Venetian brocade over the bed. A 
prie-Dieu was placed near the foot of her couch, a 
prayer chair of the Renaissance period with a Ma¬ 
donna suspended above it, and before this burned a 
small red light. The color motive of the room was 
deep dark red and that warm old gold used on cathe¬ 
dral altars. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


176 

Now Zoe leaned against the prayer chair, the re¬ 
ligious light sparkled on the rubies at her throat, as 
she talked and gesticulated! Her filmy drapery re¬ 
vealed her slender arm to the shoulder. 

“ The bed is a real relic of the Renaissance,” she 
explained and with trembling fingers Dory examined 
the exquisite workmanship of the dark wood. “ Felix 
said they had real art in those times, because artists 
loved what they did — to-day they look too much for 
money.” 

Murmuring something about that being interesting, 
Dory examined a fine old rosary which hung on the 
bed. She picked it up and laid her cheek reverently 
against its cross. 

“ Isn’t that a peach? ” demanded Zoe. 

Dory shrugged almost imperceptibly, but it was 
not lost on the observant Zoe. She laughed up and 
down the scale and started to talk very fast, — really 
in order to hide the confusion she felt coming over 
her in the presence of her friend. 

“ Ha! — you should see me go to church now, Dory. 
I always take great care to go after mass has started 
and it’s the most wonderful sensation to feel all eves 

m 

upon you as you prance down the aisle. I put gold 
in the plate, or rustle a bill in it. I always leave just 
before it ends — and my chauffeur (you should see 
my little car) is instructed to drive up just when the 
people are coming out, and I step in and show just a 
hint of my nice stockings — like this.” 

“ You certainly seem very happy,” said Dory. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


177 

She smoothed the brocaded coverlet of the bed one 
moment, enjoying its color. What taste was dis¬ 
played! Dory went from one piece to another, ex¬ 
amining everything with little cries like a delighted 
child. The moodiness of expected motherhood was 
upon her and her vague thoughts came back to her 
friend as she heard Zoe striking a match and saying 
in her high-pitched voice — 

“ Ah, Dory, — to be quite frank with you — I 
don’t honestly care about anyone in the world — while 
I have all the cigarettes I want. Of course I like 
Jack more than anyone — and you know I love you, 
darling, — but a nice place to stay — and people 
adoring me — I don’t care about anything else. And 
any good-looking girl can have it — and, Dory, this is 
meant for you — she’s a fool if she don’t take it, an 
absolute fool! ” 

It was then that Felix reappeared quite perfectly 
groomed in a grey suit, a dark red carnation as a 
boutonniere. He was thinner than he had been be¬ 
fore his sickness, and the pallor made his blue eyes 
darker and larger. His black hair was brushed 
straight back from his fine forehead showing a few 
streaks of white at the temples and Dory was struck 
with his handsomeness. He went over and sat be¬ 
side her with the same confidence he had shown when 
they met at the Sands — hardly a year ago. He 
might have been Zoe’s husband for all one could glean 
from his attitude towards her. Not a word about the 
present situation, nothing but sincere regard and in¬ 
terest in Dory’s circumstances. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


178 

She noticed that the line was cut deeper between 
his heavily lashed eyes and he had shorn his mous¬ 
tache and she saw that his mouth was very large and 
firm and curiously curved, a perfect frame for his 
strong white teeth. He smiled adorably, Dory 
thought, and could not understand Zoe not being much 
in love with him. 

He told Dory he had read of her marriage but had 
not seen Jules to congratulate him. He said she was 
too good for Jules, and that he intended telling Jules’ 
father so when he dined with him that night. 

“ But, Felix, didn’t that look dreadful in the paper, 
1 A little chorus girl ’ ? That’s what I was, of course, 
but somehow I think Jules’ father will associate it 
with the ‘ Avec Plaizir ’ — ‘ Pearl April ’ types — 
don’t you know? ” 

Drawing his brows together, Felix made an im¬ 
patient gesture — “ Ah — of course old Blenner is a 
sour old man — never permitted himself to enjoy any¬ 
thing but misery — he has always luxuriated in mak¬ 
ing a sort of ‘ trained black sheep ’ out of Jules, but 
— don’t worry about it, Dory — we’ll see what can 
be done.” 

“ Whoever gave that news to the paper, anyway? ” 
asked Zoe. “ It was certainly a nut, whoever it was! ” 

“ I can’t imagine,” said Dory. “ Of course poor 
Jules is desolate — he acted as if it were all hopeless 
this morning — I — ” then Dory’s eyes reflected the 
beautiful mystery of her secret, “ but 1 have not 


INVISIBLE WINGS 179 

given up hope — I may be able to — help him — 
I — ” 

Just then luncheon was announced, much to Dory’s 
satisfaction, and they all passed into the charming 
blue and yellow dining room. 

Dory was just about to inquire into the health of 
Mrs. Strange — but refrained. Then, to ask about 
Jack Harrington — but refrained. And the next per¬ 
son whose name her lips started to form was Harry 
Balster — and refrained. 

Zoe’s usual loquaciousness at meals seemed to have 
forsaken her—no one said anything until Felix — ob¬ 
viously to relieve the silence, asked “ who was Avec 
Plaizir and Pearl What’s-her-name,” and then went 
on encouraging her to talk about the people in the 
opera company. 

Finally coffee was served after which Felix begged 
to be excused saying he was due at the office, kissing 
Zoe goodbye and shaking hands with Dory. As he 
pressed her hand a moment, he whispered, “ Try not 
to think too hard of us, Dory — we want your friend¬ 
ship very much.” 

The girls were alone and they retired once more 
to Zoe’s bedroom. “ We’ll talk while I primp up, 
then you come with me in the car to the — where I’m 
going to meet Jack accidentally on purpose! ” 

Zoe glanced disapprovingly at Dory’s grey princess 
dress and frowsy black hat. 

After disappearing in her closet she came out with 
a trim green hat and pretty green cloak. “ Here, 


i8o 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


dear — you must take this — I’ll give you a dress, too, 
— take this — throw those things you have on in the 
swill pail.” 

Dory remonstrated, but the charm of the green hat 
was too much. When she tried it on, she hugged Zoe 
and accepted all. 

“ I thought you liked antiques,” laughed Dory as 
she drew off the old grey dress which was literally 
unraveling at the crooked seams. 

“ You certainly made a mess of it by marrying 
poor Jules,” said Zoe, as if she were answering things 
in her own mind. “ You might have married Balster 
and had lovely things so Jules would keep on loving 
you! That is the real way to happiness for a woman.” 

Dory felt she could keep her secret no longer from 
Zoe. That secret would be enough to change Zoe’s 
mind! 

“ Listen to me, Zodie, — the most real — the happi¬ 
ness of all that can come to a woman has come to 
me. It is something from the beyond that comes 
because a woman loves a man. It comes within her 
very body and touches her very heart — this real 
happiness — then, too, it is holy — it is the responsi¬ 
bility of the love of a man and a woman — Zodie — ” 

“ What? ” Zoe asked. “ What — you don’t mean, 
Dory — ” 

“ You are the first one I have told it to — for a 
little while you must keep this secret. Oh — sh — I 
hope it will be a boy, Zodie, — a wonderful boy like 
Jules.” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


181 


“ You are going to have a child, Dory? Well, you 
are the silliest girl I know. I didn’t say anything 
much when you married Jules — you were so deter¬ 
mined— you did him harm — harm I say, to him, 
as well as yourself by doing it. Now you want to put 
this expense on him — the expense of having a child 
is very great — and then ruin your figure — and the 
beautiful Dory O’Moore will turn into an old Dumb¬ 
bell— that’s what it will be! Happiness — piffle! ” 

“ But, Zodie, — you don’t understand.” 

“ You say you love Jules — well, you have taken 
the surest way of losing him — now I know what Fm 
talking about. Of course you haven’t told Jules — 
poor boy, without a cent and a rotten old miser for a 
father.” 

“ Zoe — I’m going to him — to his father, and tell 
him this — you don’t know him, neither do I, for that 
matter, but I feel he will be glad of his first — his 
only grandchild — it will make him human — he will 
understand again. But, Zoe — ” 

“ He! Well, that is the prize silly thing — he will 
just be human enough to inform you of the fact that 
you’ve made your bed with a poor man — now you 
can lie on it — Harry Balster was perfectly right — 
you had no business — a beautiful girl like you — 
with your talent, marrying a poor artist. Ye gods — 
one doesn’t marry artists! They create beautiful 
things — they are wonderful lovers, but as husbands 
they are jokes! ” 

Zoe’s vitality was equalled only by her assurance 


i82 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


and in Dory’s present weak condition the words pene¬ 
trated and she began to wonder, But again that 
sweet weariness within the depths of her — she 
snuggled in the green coat, her eyes wide with wonder 

— for was it something stirred? A faint fluttering 
within like a bird stirring its wings, a sensation pro¬ 
found, exquisite! Zoe’s voice clanged like the beat¬ 
ing of iron rails on a summer morning and the tender 
warmness was again quite still. 

“ Zoe! ” she whispered. “ I love my Baby — as if 
he were already born. I’d go through anything for 
it. Ah, Zoe,” she sighed and paused a moment for 
again she felt that exquisite fluttering within her — 
“ Zoe — I am willing to die for this little child — I 
am willing to die for the happiness I have in feeling 
him there.” She paused a moment, then straightened 
the fine square shoulders and her eyes mirrored the 
resolution. “ But I shall live to tend it and I shall 

— Oh, Zoe — I must make Jules’ father help us.” 
Again she straightened and as her sensitive mouth 
framed the words, it seemed to Zoe that Dory must 
make her will materialize, so earnest was her wish. 
“ He must stand by us in this crucial time of all our 
lives — he must! ” Suddenly Dory was quite de¬ 
cided. “ I have mated with the man who attracted 
me — physically — mentally — and I take the respon¬ 
sibility of this love in bearing his child. I would not 
be bought by that ugly Harry Balster simply because 
he has money. You would be more happy, Zoe, if 


INVISIBLE WINGS 183 

you went to Jack, because he is your true mate, and 
work for your living! ” 

Zoe fixed the comb in her hyacinth black hair, 
made an impatient gesture and sought the heavens 
with her eyes. “ My dear Dory — we left school at 
eighteen knowing not one damn thing — except a lot 
of airy persiflage — we had no money. You have 
the patience to start in and study and work endlessly 
against all odds — I have not. There you are! At 
school we used to tell them straight when we were 
only about ten or twelve that you wanted to be a 
singer — I wanted to be an actress. We showed 
talent but they only humored us, and ignored our 
ambitions. Result, we came out into the great Big 
Beautiful World — with nothing to offer.” 

“ You are right,” said Dory — “ no one knows it 
better than I.” 

Zoe continued, “ As it is, Dory — the powers in this 
world are rich men! They are all-powerful, can have 
anything they want — any girl they want. I had 
sense enough to grasp my luck in Felix — it doesn’t 
keep me from seeing Jack. You were a folly and 
passed up Harry Balster! ” 

In Dory’s eyes came the mystical look of the 
prophet, when she answered in her low voice, “ Ah, 
Zoe, what you say is terrible and there is truth in it, 
but those low standards are going to be changed, 
changed by better and wiser education; men like 
Harry Balster are not always going to be the auto¬ 
crats— vocational training will better those conditions. 


184 INVISIBLE WINGS 

The more I live and read the more I am convinced of 
this. Now that women are franchised they will little 
by little clean out the prurient and place the normal 
big intellects in power regardless of sex or material 
possessions! ” 

Zoe shrugged her thin little shoulders and arranged 
some flowers in a Venetian vase in front of the ivory 
Virgin’s altar. “ You’d make a fascinating orator 
dear. If you talk like that to Felix, he’d have you 
making a speech before his Friday night club; it’s 
quite the thing for people to go there and hear famous 
people of the day speak. They hire orators there — 
it’s a pretty good job, too. A good-looking girl like 
you talking would help the cause along. They have 
too much wise old stuff down there for me. I think 
Felix started it for advertising of his magazine. And 
Strange’s has surely profited by the speaking which it 
gets for nothing, and incidentally the club has become 
immensely popular.” 

Excitement had brought tears to Dory’s eyes. Zoe’s 
flagrantly illicit life depressed her and, sinking in a 
chair, she buried her head in her arms while the 
long rounded hand vaguely felt the place beneath 
her heart. 

Zoe bowed down and kissed her hair. “ I don’t 
understand you, Dory — I’m afraid you’re a silly 
idealist — and that doesn’t pay — it gets you nothing. 
Even the child is not all yours after about ten years 
— it has other interests.” 

“ But Zoe, even if what you say is true, just think 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


185 

life’s span is supposed to be seventy years, and for 
ten of those years to have a little being dependent on 
you — loving you — more than all, there is the love 
you always have for it! ” 

“ This is all pretty talk, and you’re happy at the 
idea of having a baby — but you’re too young. . . . 
be anything you like, but don’t be a mother. That 
is a bore! I tell you, you’ll spoil your figure — lose 
your husband, and all to have a petulant kid on your 
hands.” Zoe took up her rouge stick and started to 
make up her mouth, then catching sight of Dory’s 
wistful face in the mirror she went over impulsively 
and threw her arms around her. “ I love you, Dory,” 
she said — “I don’t want to see you spoil all your 
chances, you are too sentimental to have good sense.” 

But Dory recoiled. “ Zoe,” she whispered as she 
drew back, “ you must never give any woman advice 
like that — it is the lowest crime a woman can 
commit.” 

“ Oh, silly, it’s no crime, sometimes, women are not 
in a position to have a child;” then suddenly with a 
frightened gesture Zoe lost herself in Dory’s arms. 
“ It’s no crime, I tell you. Dory, don’t say those things 
to me. You make me nervous, when you say things 
like that.” Loosening herself from Zoe’s embrace, 
Dory went over and looked vaguely out of the window. 
She had nothing but pity in her heart for Zoe — pity 
now, and a deep friendship always, which nothing 
could destroy. Friendship — is an emotion which 
makes us seek the reason of the weakness of the flesh 


186 INVISIBLE WINGS 

and understand, tolerate, forgive and love in spite 
of it. 

And so Dory regretted silently that poor Zoe would 
suggest so base a thing — kissed her and decided sud¬ 
denly to go. 

“ My Zoe,” she whispered to her friend at the door, 
“ my poor Zoe, you have never been awakened! 99 

But the dark girl threw back her head and whis¬ 
pered: “ I’d rather stay asleep — asleep on my bed of 
roses! 99 


CHAPTER XVI 


T HAT night Jules returned to his wife and with¬ 
out a word threw his arms around her and burst 
into tears. “ We are derelicts, Dory,” he 
moaned. “ I have simply brought suffering upon you 
and myself. Father has seized this opportunity for 
cutting off my income entirely! ” 

He pressed his face against hers and swayed back 
and forth so frantically that when he drew away 
to pace the floor her heavy auburn hair fell about 
her shoulders. Dory stood very quiet, for she felt 
faint and nauseated. Never had she seen Jules so un¬ 
controlled before. Suddenly he seemed seized with 
fury and in his wrath his father’s name became anath¬ 
ema. “ Damn him,” he cried over and over again, 
“ his money will do him no good. Death will take it 
away soon. I hope to God it does. I — ” 

Once more, in a frenzy of passionate weeping, he 
threw himself on the chair and buried his head in his 
hands. 

Dory went over to him and placed his arms around 
her as she knelt and pressed her tender cheek against 
his wet, burning one and dried his tears with her 
heavy, soft hair. “ My poor one,” she murmured, 
“ my poor, hurt darling.” Gently she smoothed his 
contracted hands and gradually comforted him. She 

187 


i88 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


took off his coat and put on his dressing-robe and while 
he sat in this silken garment (some fair admirer’s 
offering) she tremblingly prepared and served his 
omelet and tea and then insisted upon his going to bed. 

“ But first I must practice an hour or so. My hands 
— my hands are stiff.” But Dory insisted he must go 
and rest. And long after he had sunk in deep, dream¬ 
less slumber, Dory lay staring awake planning a visit 
to his father on the following day. 


CHAPTER XVII 


T HE iron gate was swung open by a stooping, 
miserable-looking butler and as Dory stepped 
into the tapestry-hung hall, a tall old man 
seemed to jerk out of the curtains at the extreme end 
at the top of the steps. For a moment, he stood there, 
glowering like a sullen criminal, while Dory whispered 
to the butler: “ Will you say, please, Mrs. Jules 
Blenner,” — and at that the tall old man seemed to 
leap back behind the huge curtain from whence he 
had come. 

Then the butler wobbled up there, disappeared and 
after a moment came unsteadily towards Dory. He 
seemed to stoop lower than ever as he began: “ Very 
sorry, Madam, but Mr. Bl-Blenner is not at home.” 

At that, the old man came out once more and called 
in a nasal voice: “ Oh well, come up — come up.” 
And passing by the very embarrassed butler, Dory 
mounted the stairs. In another moment, she stood in 
a high-ceilinged, palatial room, with her husband’s 
father, who had taken himself to the extreme end of 
it and stood leaning against a table. 

Ignoring Dory, he looked towards a rather hand¬ 
some, slender young woman sitting on a couch, who 
arose with a slight swish of her silken gown and went 
over to the girl and holding out a hand very high in 

189 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


190 

the air, “ I am Mrs. Felix Strange/’ she said, and 
touched finger-tips with Dory, who murmured some 
pretty recognition of her friend’s wife. 

And Dory looked once more with mute pleading at 
Mr. Blenner, who did not stir but looked with mute 
animus at her. 

His long, oblong face, with its thin, flabby cheeks, 
narrow grey-green eyes and drooping, colorless mouth, 
bore no resemblance at first glance to Jules. But there 
was something about the large, aquiline nose and about 
the square line of his thick grey hair as it grew off the 
lined, low brow, which did suggest his son. 

Jerking his narrow shoulders back and placing his 
hands in his pockets, he looked once more at Mrs. 
Strange, then drew the heavy black brows down in a 
sullen frown, and coughed nervously as he felt Dory 
turn to him. 

Her head was like a pink rose set on her slender, 
bended neck, and when she turned, it seemed exactly 
as if the wind swayed it round always with that grace¬ 
ful, indolent movement. 

“ Mr. Blenner,” Dory’s voice shook a little. 

“ Well,” he fairly shouted, “ what do you want? I 
know what you want. Jules came and had the nerve 
to ask me yesterday after — marrying a girl out of the 
— the theatre. Well, if you think I have raised my 
boy to be a parasite, young woman, you are much mis¬ 
taken. He is perfectly educated — that is, equipped. 
I did all that.” Mr. Blenner dove his hands deep in 
his pockets and jerked his shoulders back “ I did all 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


191 

that,” he repeated. “ My duty has been done most 
thoroughly. Now he can stand on his own legs.” 

Dory winced. “ Mr. Blenner, Jules appreciates the 
wonderful education you have given him — we both 
do — and ” — but the father interrupted her. 

“ And,” continued the old man, a look of cunning 
in his narrow grey eyes, “ if he can’t make his living 
by music — let him try something else.” Jerking him¬ 
self out of the chair, he went over and stood with his 
back to <Dory. He wished not to look at the pretty, 
sorrowful face of this “ little upstart,” who came but 
to graft on him. He wished to enjoy his moment of 
revenge. How many times had that dark boy of his 
stood up, looking out of his mother’s wilful black eyes, 
reiterating. “ Music is my life. I will stick to it in 
spite of everything.” 

He turned on the girl, shaking with self-righteous¬ 
ness. “ Let him stick to his music now that he has 
a wife to support and see how he likes what his father 
always advised him against. See if he would not pre¬ 
fer being an honest working-man as his father is, and 
earning plenty of money.” 

Sociologically, feeble-mindedness is a condition of 
mental relative incompetence, dating from birth or 
infancy, which makes it impossible for the individual 
to get along in the world on equal terms with his 
normal fellow-men. 

Feeble-minded and piteously so are all those mor¬ 
bidly fear-haunted human beings who are only am¬ 
bitious of money, and those who crave it for its own 
sake are insane. 


192 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


The father wished an excuse to cut off Jules’ income 
and when Margot abetted him he seized upon this 
marriage like a monster. He wished a grievance 
against his only son and when Margot suggested he 
was to be pitied, he reached out avidly for the sym¬ 
pathy of the world. 

Rising from the sofa, Margot Strange went over and 
laid her arm upon his with a soft, sheltering move¬ 
ment. She stretched her tall form and looked with 
condescending curiosity upon the green-cloaked little 
figure of Dory. 

“ My dear Cousin Ned, please don’t excite yourself. 
You’ll be very ill with all this — perhaps this young 
woman had better content herself with being the wife 
of a very poor young man ; and wash and cook and sew T 
for him as decent women do who are married to poor 
men.” 

“ A decent woman? ” queried Dory. Her voice was 
very low and in the darkness of the room her pale face 
seemed a phantasm and the dark, slim silhouette of 
her figure was almost lost in the shadows of the tap¬ 
estried corner. “ I am sure,” came the musical voice, 
“ Mrs. Strange, you can tell me what is a decent 
woman.” 

Rage overcame Mr. Blenner. This remark seemed 
full of implied meaning to him. He crossed the room 
and stood directly in front of Dory. “ You are in the 
presence of one of America’s recognized gentlewomen,” 
he said, “ my kinswoman. That is the sort of family 
you have worked yourself into.” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i 93 


“Oh! ” Dory’s voice and manner affected them 
both. Margot Strange itched to strike her across the 
stupid little face as she ground her teeth behind her 
loose lips, with their stereotyped smile, glancing 
sweetly and sympathetically at the same time at her 
cousin Ned, who chivalrously came to her protection 
against the transgressor. 

“ I’ll answer your question,” said he. “ A decent 
woman does not hold herself up to the public, does not 
make a show of herself for money like that.” And 
before Dory’s eyes was flashed the picture of herself 
in tights. “ It was just sent to Mrs. Strange by our 
mutual friend Mr. Balster, and it’s very plainly you! ” 

Now the tears stood hot in her eyes and there was 
a hard, hard lump in her throat. She felt alone — 
alone in a burning desert of poisonous sand. This 
woman who had fattened on the loneliness of Felix 
Strange, luring him with courtship and love-making — 
getting his name, his money, everything, and giving 
him nothing. Old Blenner had driven his wife — Jules’ 
mother — to the insane asylum with his constant nag¬ 
ging against her dreamy, artistic ways. And when, 
after an illness he had caused, she was condemned to 
a sanatorium, he considered himself abused by Fate 
for being married to a woman with a weak brain. 
That same self-righteousness now showed in regard to 
their son and to the girl whom he was repudiating, his 
cruel gaze scrutinizing her wistful face. 

The dry sob in Dory’s throat nearly overwhelmed 


194 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


her. She burst out crying — she felt for her hand¬ 
kerchief and her fingers clasped her heart. 

At that moment, over his shoulder, Dory saw a pic¬ 
ture — a long panel — the portrait of a dark woman 
in a crimson gown, with Jules’ face. A light burned 
over it — a reflector — the eyes smiled into hers. 
“ Don’t give up,” they seemed to say. “ I gave up, 
dear — my last baby died because of his cruelty and 
deprivation — then my mind died — of fatigue, grief. 
But you bear up — for Jules’ sake — you are young 
now — have courage — it is for your babe.” 

“ Mr. Blenner,” Dory heard her own voice far 
away, “ if you please, Mr. Blenner — I should like to 
tell you something alone — if Mrs. Felix Strange would 
not mind — then I shall go away. . . .” 

“ Anything you care to say to me may be said in 
my cousin’s presence. If it had not been for her, I 
should not have seen you at all. Just to please her I 
did — so I’d hear what you have to say.” 

“ What you say about washing — working, sewing, 
is quite true. I wish I might do just that for my hus¬ 
band. But I came to ask you for your help because 
your son was born a muscian; everything about him 
is the organism of a musician — in that profession you 
trained him — if you force him into a shop — he will 
go for my sake — but he will meet the same fate as 
his mother. Mr. Blenner, something has happened. 
I know when you hear what is going to happen —I 
cannot work just now — ” 

“ Well? ” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


i95 

Her eyes sought the soft sad ones of the portrait 
and her voice was sonorous and steady. 

“ We are expecting — a little baby! ” 

“ Good God, this is awful,” exclaimed the man. 

“ Awful? ” asked Dory. Then turning to Mrs. 
Strange, she asked again: “ You who are a woman, you 
do not think it is awful — to have a baby? ” 

“ In your position, yes — I think it is — an imposi¬ 
tion.” 

Then the tears did come and choked her throat but 
dried hard in her eyes and the woman in the portrait 
seemed to stretch out her arms. 

And the rasping voice of the old man continued: 

“ That I suppose you thought would get me — I 
suppose you thought that would be your winning card. 
Well, you’re mistaken. Jules has taken a wife with¬ 
out my knowledge, now he has the responsibility of 
you and a child to support. It will make a man of 
him.” 

Moving towards the door, the girl bowed and passed 
out — down the stairs, many luxuriously carpeted 
steps — down the hall — the velvet-hung hall — to a 
heavy carved iron door which a liveried servant 
opened, and the little bruised figure in the green cloak 
and bonnet stepped out into the street. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


P LUNGING Jules into poverty now — in New 
York, where he had been bred, it would make 
him merely cheap. He would solve his life’s 
problems on a lower scale — that was all. Out of 
grim necessity, he would forsake the ideals he had for 
being presented in a distinguished way to the public 
and pouring the message of his exotic soul out to them 
— his beautiful ambition to be the magic reed through 
which the muscians of other centuries lived again and 
again would sing their sonorous songs. All this would 
be forsaken and he would accommodate his genius to 
dull surroundings and the obsequiousness of a music 
teacher in some conservatory for a pittance. And 
while all this would be stimulating to certain spirits 
with the strength of fighters in their veins, for Jules 
it would be stultifying. 

Still smarting from the cruelty of that unnatural 
father, Dory descended from the ’bus when she 
reached Washington Square and went to sit on a bench 
in the little park. The tall lithe form of Mrs. Felix 
Strange seemed to stand before her and mock her. 
And Harry Balster had dared to suggest that Jules 
had been in love with her! 

She tightened her hands but for some reaason could 
not control the chill that shook her as she thought of 

196 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


197 


the fact that even now Jules was giving Mrs. Strange 
lessons twice a week on the piano in her beautiful pri¬ 
vate studio. She was his only pupil. She paid ten 
dollars a lesson — now it was their only source of in¬ 
come. But — and once more that icy feeling ran down 
her spine to the soles of her feet and through her heart 
till the blood left her face. Both those afternoons — 
Tuesday and Friday — were the ones on which Jules 
had returned late to dinner — with some vague ex¬ 
cuse about stopping at his club. Dory thought of 
Margot Strange. Yes, surely she was beautiful. And 
jealousy possessed the girl’s brain and body. 


CHAPTER XIX 


PON Dory’s return, when all seemed darkest for 



her, a note from Jack Harrington stirred her 


heart, brought her out of herself. The note 

read: 

“ My dear Dory: — 

* We are in distress — Zoe and I. Please come to 
us. Zoe is ill in the Bloan Hospital. Don’t say any¬ 
thing of this to Felix, should you see him, but come at 
once. 


“ Jack Harrington.” 


Indescribable currents of evil seemed to permeate 
the nervously-written note, and the situation as it 
really was seemed to dawn on Dory before poor Zoe 
herself related it. When she arrived at the Bloan 
Hospital, a nurse took Dory’s name and was about to 
go through the customary red tape, when Jack ap¬ 
peared, startlingly jerky and trembling, and drew her 
into one of the reception rooms. 

His hands were cold and a green pallor overspread 
his face. The pupils of his vivid grey eyes were nar¬ 
rowed to a needle-point and his full large mouth was 
twitching. 

“ Dory,” he whispered, “ we must try to keep the 
truth of this from Felix.” 

“ What, Jack? I don’t even know what you are 
talking about — except that Zoe is in trouble.” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


199 


“ Trouble — God, I have told Zoe I didn’t want to 
play this double game. If she must live in luxury — 
why, she’d have to go to Felix. I couldn’t kick, but 
I tried to give her up. She wanted all that but she in¬ 
sisted upon seeing me — and I was mad — mad about 
her. At the very time that Zoe was talking to you 
the other day she knew that she was expecting a child 
— herself — our child. Do you understand, Dory? ” 

Looking in her wistful, sympathetic face, he read his 
answer and guessed her thought that Zoe should have 
gone to him and they together take the responsibility 
of their love. 

“ Dory,” he continued, as he ran his thin, nervous 
fingers through his thick sandy hair, “ Dory, the doc¬ 
tor doesn’t hold out any hope — but we must save 
her! She will need the most careful nursing, and no 
agitation of any kind. Her mother came home last 
night, apparently perfectly well, but she upsets Zodie 
terribly. She was the cause of all this — suggested it. 
Now, what’s going to happen? And my girl must, 
must be saved. I’d kill myself if anything happened 
to Zodie.” 

At that moment, the door opened softly and gliding 
across the polished floor in the smartest of gowns came 
Mrs. Sand. 

She kissed Dory and taking a chair, sat beside Jack. 

“ Listen,” she whispered, “ it is all arranged. I 
have seen Felix.” She hesitated a moment as she ad¬ 
dressed them both. “ You understand, Jack,” she said 


200 INVISIBLE WINGS 

meaningly — “ Felix knows nothing of your — affec¬ 
tion for Zoe.” 

Grasping her hands and peering into her face as if 
to look past the smiling mask that mocked him while 
it prepared to crucify him, the man pleaded with her. 
“ Bella — you — ” but his voice was hoarse and died 
in his throat. “ You — ” 

The thin woman held her head high and the light 
shone down showing the aristocratic line of her dark 
hair as it grew off the small head — the slight bags 
under her hard eyes — the deep downward lines from 
her nose to her large painted mouth. There was a 
slight wheeze in her chest as she sighed, and her breath 
smelled of brandy. Reaching out her waxen hand, 
Mrs. Sand touched Jack’s limp arm. 

“ If you love her as you claim, you will want her to 
have the little luxuries she has been accustomed to 
having, which are out of your power to give and easily 
within the means of Felix. Poor Zoe will be disabled 
and ill for some few months; the expense of nurses and 
doctors will be very great.” 

She leaned back. Again that light on her sagging, 
painted face — in the eyes that sank in their bulging 
sockets like bright coals in a dying fire. “ It is all 
arranged,” she concluded. “ You must leave us now, 
Jack dear, for in a few moments I wish to go and see 
Zoe and I expect Felix to go with me.” 

He was to go — and his place was to be taken by 
Felix! Dory turned sick. 

Springing up, Jack gestured in Bella’s face: 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


201 


“I — I won’t go,” he cried. “ I’m going up to her 
now — up to my girl — she’s mine, I tell you, all mine. 
I have enough money for the necessary things — not 
enough to support you in luxury, nor Zoe either in lux¬ 
ury, but enough for necessities for her — if I work 
my fingers to the bone — I’ll write all night — all 
day.” 

He started for the door. But at that moment it 
opened and the little white-clad nurse stood beside the 
tall, distinguished form of Felix Strange. 

As in a dream, he walked towards them and ad¬ 
dressed Mrs. Sand: 

“ Nurse says we can go up, Bella,” he said. Then 
seeing Dory like a woe-begone bundle hunched up in 
a chair in her green coat and bonnet, he took her cold 
hand and kept it within his own. 

Mrs. Sand leered and toyed with her platinum 
lorgnette as she strove to say something to divert at¬ 
tention from Jack. 

Having worked hard the previous day reporting 
some murder trial and hearing of Zoe’s illness Jack 
had hastened up to the apartment and stayed there all 
night. At the doctor’s hopeless diagnosis, Jack’s 
nerve began to forsake him, and now before anyone 
knew what he was ready to do, Jack, with trembling 
hands and distraught, wild eyes, was telling the whole 
truth to Felix. 

Before Felix had seemed to grasp what he was hear¬ 
ing the nurse appeared, and silence thrilled them all. 
She tiptoed over, her white skirts emitting an odor of 
antiseptic. 


202 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ Is Miss O’Moore still here? she asked. “ Will 
she kindly come with me at once? ” 

When Jack dashed forward, the calm, stern look of 
the nurse dominated him. 

“ Just Miss O’Moore this time, if you please. The 
patient wishes to see her alone.” 

Pressing Felix’s hand still more tightly one instant, 
Dory gazed an instant at the three emotion-racked 
figures, and softly left the room. 

She hastened quietly, evenly, dilating her nostrils, 
keeping her chest high, for premonitions of tragedy 
were with her and she thought of her own unborn child • 

In a few moments she stood beside the spotless white 
cot in a spotless white room, and on the pillow was the 
ashen face of Zoe. Her black hair was tightly braided. 
Her forehead was glazed and her eyes, without the 
shadow of her black hair, now seemed small and pierc¬ 
ing. The skin was tight over her nose so that there 
were violet places near the nostrils and the large mouth 
trembled and was drawn down into the full square 
chin. The room smelled of antiseptic. Dory took the 
little dark hand in hers. It was dank and felt as if 
the blood had ceased to flow. “ My Zoe,” she whis¬ 
pered. “ Don’t talk, darling — you’re going to be all 
right in a day or two.” 

But Zoe shook her head. “ I know,” she said, “ I 
know. I have suffered, Dory — a thousand years I 
lived last night — of pain — of shame — remorse.” 

“ But, dearest, you didn’t really know — you didn’t 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


203 

realize — you have suffered, darling — but the doc¬ 
tors have brought you around all right. 

“ I wish your baby were here now, Dory — cunning 
little thing it will be — but, Dory, I want to live — to 
go to Jack and be square — I want so — but Dory I 
feel — I want the baby now. Funny, isn’t it? Hun¬ 
gry — for that baby, but Dory, I tried not to have it 

— Dory darling, kiss me. Ah — your cheek is warm 

— you smell sweet, motherly — like a rose. Your 
face feels good, dear. 

“ Dory — about love being a holy thing and the 
responsibility of it — a child — that Nature’s law you 
talked about, Dory — it is true.” 

She sank back exhausted. And in what a mad 
moment of selfishness and rage she had dared to will 
that her child should perish so that she might keep the 
flippant gains of her shameful life, keep the spoil of 
an illicit companionship. Like her mother, she gloried 
in getting everything and giving nothing. Too late she 
realized the truth of Dory’s words, the responsibility 
of a woman’s love — her responsibility and her duty 
to the State. How she had laughed at the idea of 
motherhood and suffrage — women and the State! 

Suddenly the pain-racked figure started up. 
“ Dory,” she whispered, “ am I really going to be 
saved? — ” 

“ Darling, you are both going to be saved. Oh, you 
must be quiet, dear.” 

But again Zoe started up, focusing her glazing eyes 
straight in front of her. 


204 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ Then why do I see a little baby looking at me like 
that — so sadly — so — so hopelessly, Dory? Why 
those voices — why does he reach out his little hands? 
I can’t take you in my arms, baby — I — can’t take 
you — now.” 

Gently laying her on her back, Dory’s voice fell 
to a somniferous cooing. “ There — there — Zoe 

— sleep now — you are tired — very tired.” 

But the delirious girl turned to her a face that was 
haunted. 

“ But, Dory,” she whispered, “ that poor baby looks 
so helpless — his eyes are like Jack’s and they are full 

— full of tears — and see, he turns his head away 
from me — he — doesn’t hold his hands out any — 
any more — I — I — ” 

Blindly her arms shoot out towards the spirit of her 
child — then she falls back once more — cringing, in 
Dory’s arms. While Dory clasped her, the little form 
seemed to suddenly wither, to crumple. The room 
seemed laden with the evanescent souls. 

Closing her eyes, Zoe’s little hand relaxed, — a cold, 
dank wave seemed to sink over Dory as she looked at 
Zoe — saw those eyes look afar off — a wondering, 
cringing expression in them — Dory struggled towards 
the door, crying softly, quickly: “ Nurse — nurse — ” 
Grasping a chair, she waited while the nurse dropped 
to her knees and listened to Zoe’s heart for a moment 

— silence. — Then the nurse rose — 

The neat vital figure with the serious face saw that 
words were unnecessary to the girl who tremblingly 



INVISIBLE WINGS 


205 


grasped the chair. Quickly she poured a little brandy 

out for Dory, who swallowed it automatically — 

breathing carefully, evenly. The nurse let her out — 

down the narrow, clean, antiseptic hall — down the 

white iron steps to the reception room they went and 

there the three figures — Mrs. Sand — Jack fairly 

doubled up as he gesticulated — Felix distraught — 

reiterating in a harsh whisper: “ You played a dirty 

game, Harrington — dirtier than hers even. She was 

her mother’s child — your child, Bella — so she is a 
_ )) 

As he was about to give the foul word utterance, 
Dory reached them — reached the three figures who 
stood against the strong hospital light quarreling about 
a dead girl. 

• ••••••• 

Since Zoe’s death some few months had passed. 
Jack Harrington had disappeared. He had left the 
country but no one knew where he had gone. Hor¬ 
rible thoughts about Zoe’s tragic ending and poignant, 
tender thoughts of her own baby marked Dory’s life. 
Jules regretted the advent of his offspring, but he never 
voiced this dread to Dory; she seemed such a charm¬ 
ing child as she sat making little white clothes and 
humming lullabies with her soft low voice. 

Dory still regretted the necessity of the handsome 
pupil, Margot Strange, but never showed this jeal¬ 
ousy to Jules. He seemed so sensitive a musical me¬ 
dium, so utterly hers as he practised over and over 
again some aria until the notes fell like jewels, then 



206 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


weary, he would lie down beside her and bury his face 
in her hair. Ah, yes — then he seemed utterly hers. 

But he spent long hours going over Mrs. Felix 
Strange’s music lessons now three times a week. 
Three times a week there were ominous fears in his 
wife’s brain which were as improbable as they were 
terrible. It seemed strange that he should stay so 
long. Of course, Margot paid huge sums for the les¬ 
sons. Margot had promised to back Jules’ concert 
tour the following year. Indeed, the impresario had 
already been paid the first instalment and the adver¬ 
tising had begun. 

Old Mr. Blenner persisted in his grim antipathy 
towards his daughter-in-law. And for Dory it was no 
cross not to see him. But the curious thing was that 
Margot Strange, she who had so cleverly supported 
old Mr. Blenner in all his animus towards his son’s 
marriage, that Margot should now be giving the very 
help she had advised his father against. 

In the little studio Dory sat and sewed. Occasion¬ 
ally she would look out of the window. A great round, 
rouged cloud floated by in a golden sky. Through the 
window the heavens looked like a yellow rose with a 
deep red heart, like the heart of Christ which drenched 
the world below with its light, even as the love of a 
woman must drench a man’s life with its radiance. 

Long she would gaze on the flood of color — vaguely 
the pretty hand would feel the place beneath her heart. 
A soft warmness there and ever-growing heaviness 
made her somnolent. Her sensitive lips smiled as she 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


207 


thrilled and dreamed of a little boy with straight limbs 
and a head like a faun — a wilful lad that took her 
hands in his strong sinuous ones and kissed them. 
“ Mother,” his voice would ring, “ you are not like 
other fellows’ mothers. Somehow I tell you every¬ 
thing— you’re such a good, real little mother.” She 
thrilled at his unconscious grace. She saw him lost in 
thought, his long lashes sweeping his cheek — his won¬ 
derful dark skin with its green shadows — like his 
father’s. Scarcely able to keep her eyes open, she 
would take up the dainty white sewing. A strong 
shaft of light from the wave of color streamed in and 
enveloped her and even while her eyes caressed it the 
gold changed — recoiled like some retreating happi¬ 
ness, and swept over the place where it sank into the 
west. Then came slow solemn streams of deep dark 
shades which formed themselves into gigantic dragons 
tipped with flame. And while Dory’s eyes were fixed 
upon them, her thoughts reverted, as they did each 
day, to Zoe. She saw again the funeral of the young 
girl lying in a white casket with lilies near her head, 
the distraught look in Jack’s eyes as he stood over 
her — the pale Felix, the maudlin drunken cries of 
Mrs. Sand, the quiet, shifting people in that luxurious 
salon that Zoe had so prized. Beneath the carved 
mantel was placed the coffin. The cold — the har¬ 
rowing cold of her forehead as Dory kissed it for the 
last time — Zoe — almost a sister — the harrowing 
cold of death. She heard that Jack had left the coun¬ 
try— had gone to forget Zoe — and himself forever. 


208 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


Shuddering, Dory thought of Zoe’s last words spoken 
in that sumptuous room. “ I would rather stay asleep 
in my bed of roses forever.” How her wilful eyes 
narrowed and flamed as her sensuous mouth formed 
the words! Dory shuddered once more and her heart 
went sad until it hurt the depths of her, and the hot 
tears welled in her eyes and scalded her throat. The 
bed was a white coffin and the blanket of roses 
which Felix had sent only counteracted for a few hours 
the dank odor of death. 

Zoe — Zoe — with her quick impulsive conclusion 

— with her vicious white teeth — with her strange 
sensuous movements as she walked and looked at men 
and wilfully made them forget honor, duty, wife, God 

— made them only want Zoe, the touch of her, the kiss 
of her quivering crimson mouth — the smell of her 
crisp dark hair — the sound of her mocking laughter 
as it rang on their deafened ears. And for money 
she went to Felix, and for the taste of power she 
fascinated many men and abandoned herself to them, 
and for a fierce animal love she gave all the heart of 
her to Jack, who crushed her in arms of steel — steel 
that battled frantically to possess her utterly — steel 
that was melted by the flame of Zoe’s will — flame 
that burned his reason, poisoned his manhood. 

Dory shuddered. Loneliness and helplessness over¬ 
whelmed her. Jules was not with her very often these 
days. She did not allow him to be too conscious of her 
state. Clever ways of arranging her dress — the green 
velvet dress with its simple white chiffon collar and 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


209 


cuffs — the green coat and bonnet — things against 
which her auburn hair shone in such striking contrast. 
But the brooding look of a young mother stayed in her 
purple brown eyes. Energetically she stepped out on 
the evenings when Jules would return from business 
arrangements or when he had finished practicing. She 
would force the heavy limbs to walk along and the 
aching heart to amuse him with her stories. And in¬ 
deed there were days when she felt very vital and then 
she seemed in a state of exaltation — her voice rang in 
soft, poignant songs and her smile was so infectious 
that Jules almost forgot what he considered a calamity 
— the dreaded responsibility. 

Now Jules was an hour late. Could he be discuss¬ 
ing plans with Margot Strange? Mrs. Strange had 
never had the grace to call on her, it did seem slighting 
since she was so intimate with Jules. How Dory dis¬ 
liked that woman! She was beautiful and powerful — 
and Jules, her darling Jules? But there must be no 
sadness — no bitterness to depress the life of her child. 
With an effort she walked over to the piano, trying to 
ignore the clock, which told her Jules was an hour late. 
Over the ivory keys her slender hands wandered and 
finally selected a little song of Theskowsky. Her 
brain was forced to concentrate upon the melody, and 
with her eyes closed her heart drank the harmony as 
a flower drinks the dew. 

Jules was very much later than usual and many ill- 
foreboding thoughts came to upset Dory, as she 
glanced anxiously from time to time at her clock. 


210 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


In order to distract herself, she rearranged the 
flowers and lighted candles, and looked at herself in the 
mirror, and pretty as she was, forgot she was looking 
at herself with such sombre eyes. 

The hours dragged before Jules finally returned 
and when she asked what kept him so late, he threw 
his hat and cane on the table and snapped, “ Oh, noth¬ 
ing; can’t I have any time to myself, for God’s sake! ” 

“ Yes, of course, Jules — if you only telephone me 
so I won’t keep — expecting you. Because this way, 
you see, I worry.” 

“ Worry about what? ” 

“ That you might be run over — or something — 
some harm that might come to my boy! ” 

“ Rot.” 

“ Or, — I don’t know — it’s just if you tell me you 
will meet me at a certain time I naturally expect 
you to come even if the meeting-place happens to be 
our own home.” 

Jules glanced sullenly at her, and flung himself into 
his own room. 

Doreen called out, “ Jules, don’t be such a cross- 
patch! What’s the matter? I don’t understand you — 
I — ” 

“ Oh, it’s too bad about you! You’ve made things 
difficult enough for me ever since our marriage, noth¬ 
ing has gone right! ” With this very adequate expla¬ 
nation he took his hat and slammed the door in her 
face. 

Doreen said nothing, but she bit her under lip until 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


2 11 


the blood came. Then she sought and called up a note 
from the precious store of comfort which she had 
gathered to help her live when life was hard. It was 
from “ Harmonies of Evolution.” 

“ The fundamental doctrine of the Nazarene was 
the universal brotherhood of man. The fundamental 
characteristics of the man were compassion, pity and 
love.” 

“ Compassion, pity and love.” Doreen thought of 
these till again she could sing softly to herself; when 
Jules returned home his bitter words forgotten and his 
anger evaporated he found no irate wife confronting 
him nor even that silence of contempt which was Dor¬ 
een’s first impulse in her outraged pride. 

He accepted her smiles and praise, when he played 
to her, in the same manner that a Pasha accepts the 
dances of his harem. 





CHAPTER XX 

T HERE came a day when Dory realized she could 
no longer go about, and weary, she sat at home 
many times after her housekeeping duties were 
done. Jules never ceased to regret she must do such 
work, since it humilated him when someone called and 
found her toiling. Nevertheless he was very critical 
and often would quite lose his temper and complain 
of her vague ways. “ Don’t you see that spot away 
over there on the floor? My cunning little Dory — 
she never sees anything like that — just content to find 
a little soft place to sit, and then push the dishes away 
from her.” But always after these patronizing bitter 
admonitions, he would pet her, sometimes play to her 
until she smiled; then kiss her and as the situation 
would reappear to him with its dreaded responsibility, 
he would kiss her many times more, then impatiently 
leave “ on business,” and perhaps return very late to 
the dinner which the janitor sent up each night at 
seven o’clock. 

And Dory would accept his excuses even though 
subconsciously she realized he was neglecting her — for 
no bitterness must enter her heart just now, lest it be 
transmitted to the little one. 

Then one evening as she saw through the window the 
crescent moon bending her silver self in a rose pearl 


212 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


213 


sky and Dory leaning out, smiled over her right 
shoulder — suddenly an icy chill shot through her 
body and left her teeth chattering. Rushing to the 
’phone, she called her doctor. He would be there in a 
few minutes. 

Not until the following week was Dory to go to the 
hospital. 

Again that chill! And this time a racking pain in 
her back. Would no one ever come? She had not told 
the doctor she was much alone. “ Dear Jesus, help 
me,” sobbed the soft voice. “ Blessed Virgin ” — and 
in the darkness a light appeared. A gentle figure with 
a golden halo held out its arms as Dory prayed: “ Hail 
Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee ” — and 
while her brain registered many details — things to 
be prepared — wondering where Jules was — many 
other things, her heart thanked God for her religion. 
With that she never could be really forsaken! That 
fed her spirit. The quiet comprehending consolation! 
That light in the darkness. “ Holy Mary, Mother of 
God, pray for us sinners, now at the hour of our death. 
Amen. Ah, Mary Mother, send Jules home to me in 
this terrible time Ah! ” The auburn hair covered her 
face as she fell to the couch. And at that moment 
Jules returned. 

He realized how late he was and had prepared an 
excuse as he sped home in Mrs. Strange’s car. But in 
the hall there was no light! Hearing a moan, he ran 
to the couch and took the quivering girl in his arms. 

“ The doctor — he will be here in a few minutes — ” 


214 INVISIBLE WINGS 

he said — “ but hours have passed. It — seems to me, 
dear — ” 

“ My Doreen, what shall I do for you — here, 
I’ll — ” 

“ No — no, nothing but stay — stay here,” she 
whispered and clung to him as a great pain bore her 
down and drove the blood from her lips. “ Oh, Jules, 
don’t go away please — don’t go away and leave me 
alone here, will you, dear — you won’t leave Dory so 
alone — I — I’ve been wanting you so! ” 

But Jules only wept silently and held her close. 
Dumbly he cursed the poverty that deprived her of 
attention. He had never once reproached himself be¬ 
fore — but now! He did wish he could have done 
more. He was thankful that at present no pain racked 
the little form — only the chill persisted, so he quickly 
wrapped his coat around her and smoothed the heavy 
hair off her forehead and then with their tear-stream¬ 
ing cheeks pressed together, the two looked out of 
the window, like nesting birds, and waited for the 
doctor. 

Though shaking violently, the girl crushed her lip 
with her teeth and snuggled down into the warm coat 
and soon became somnolently rested, though the claw¬ 
ing pain had rent her but a few minutes before and 
though she knew it must return more cruelly again, 
yet now she relaxed and wilfully reserved her strength. 
For was this not the first blessed oasis in the desert of 
despair? 

“ My wounded bird — my poor mother girl,” whis- 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


215 


pered Jules, while his conscience smote him for the 
neglect during these past months, and for perhaps 
more — but he would not permit himself to think. He 
sought to comfort her and in vain sought to under¬ 
stand. 

But what could he know of that night on the sands 
of sorrow in the stifling air of a Purgatory! No man 
can know. For there each woman, who like a deity 
is about to create — must wander alone — alone feel¬ 
ing the lid of the sepulchre being sealed over her — 
feeling that inconsolable regret of life — that secret 
horror of her child being grasped from her — that still 
greater terror of its possible defects. Ah, verily her 
love is purified in the crucible of agony. But also her 
happiness is intensified a thousand-fold in that reali¬ 
zation of a life delivered of her. 

Night quickly came. One deep rose cloud flooded 
another sinking deeper and deeper in tone. Grey 
gleamed over the rose and became purple and the trees 
of the park like silent sentinels — violet-clad, were sil¬ 
houetted solemnly against it. Purple gave way when 
the first star appeared. Nature was accomplishing its 
laws and soon the mighty mantle of darkness swept 
the heavens. 


CHAPTER XXI 


F IVE weeks later, Jules was waiting for Mrs. 
Felix Strange in her music room. Grey dam¬ 
ask covered the high walls, a plain carpet of 
a deeper color covered the floor. Isolated in a far 
corner was a concert grand piano on which was placed 
an ivory bowl filled with fresh violets. In the fireplace 
burned a low, crackling fire. Over it hung an oval¬ 
shaped portrait of Margot Strange by Sargent. It was 
quite early in the afternoon but the outer ivory silk 
curtains were drawn. One alabaster lamp radiated 
light like a pale moon’s. Two couches faced each 
other at either side of the fireplace, and the place had 
an air of restful emptiness. 

Jules exercised his fingers on the couch seat. First 
one hand, then the other. Then rubbed them as he re¬ 
garded them with what was really absorbing interest. 
He thought of Dory’s return to the studio room two 
days before — Dory with their little son. A boy! 
Jules felt he should be very proud — and superior. 

At that moment Margot Strange glided into the 
room. The seal-colored silk gown clung to her figure 
and accentuated her languorous beauty. 

Jules stooped and kissed her hand. 

“ How is the son and heir,” inquired Margot. 

216 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


217 


“ Yes, air is about all he’ll have, poor youngster — 
but he’s a beauty, Margot. I’d hoped he’s soften 
Dad’s heart, but he won’t even see him! ” 

“ Very unusual for a child to be born with black 
hair growing on its head,” laughed Mrs. Strange. 
“ Makes him look so like you, Jules. I suppose that 
will fall out now — very soon — they say it does. 
How is father treating you? ” 

“ Oh, he is true to the colors — I thought perhaps 
when Dory and the boy came home, he might pay 
us a visit — but no chance. He paid the hospital 
bill and even gave me a hundred plunks and seems 
to think he deserves a crown from Heaven for doing 
it.” 

Jules started to walk to the ’phone in a nervous way 
he had that was very familiar to Mrs. Strange. She 
bit her lip and then sank back in a huge dark pillow 
on the lounge. 

“ Well, you don’t have to worry about next season’s 
tour, as I am attending to that. The manager has 
just asked for another thousand for the bill posters.” 

“ Oh, Margot, that makes six thousand so far within 
a few months! ” 

“ Yes, but the manager said ten for the first year, 
you know! You are going to be interviewed next 
week for some article about pianists. It’s going to 
be a whole page in a Sunday supplement of the 
Planet. That will help to get you in ‘ the public eye.’ 
The publicity man was paid five hundred dollars last 
week.” 


218 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ Margot, how wonderful you are to me! ” 

Almost imperceptibly she drew nearer to him. “ I 
wish — I might be — everything — I — ” But check¬ 
ing the jealousy that rose irresistibly to her lips, she 
quickly added something in a cold tone about the 
business of his tour which she was financially back¬ 
ing. “ The first engagement will be here in New 
York City, at Vocalian Hall. The rent of the hall 
will be $1,500, and we must fill it, by paper if in no 
other way — and several critics must — er — er — 
listen in a — friendly way — so that the papers will 
be full of the arrival of a new genius the following 
day. Then, clothes, Jules, you understand they are 
very important. You must have the appearance of 
success. You had better go to Hammond on the 
Avenue and order a complete wardrobe. Your name 
is good, — they will send you a bill and you must 
bring it to me.” 

“ But, Margot — ” 

With an impatient wave of her hand, she added: 
“ I know that sounds debasing and would be in the 
ordinary sense. But it is merely a necessary part of 
the arrangements for your success on the stage.” 

Only that morning Dory had said: “ Oh, dearest, 
how wonderful it will be next year. Just think, all 
the world will know you as ‘ The Great Jules Blenner ’ 
as I do! ” Her kiss seemed scarcely dry on his 
mouth. He shuddered when he thought of the cheap 
little room she was lying in off his studio. He simply 
would not think of the baby. Dear snuggling little 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


219 


bundle of his! Thoughts of them and his powerless¬ 
ness — seemed to cramp his soul — he could not play 
if he dwelt on it too long. God — he would be a 
failure at his debut — after all his life of preparation. 
All his body was sensitized to be the reed of master 
composers; his brain — to be the medium of that 
intangible thing of the spirit — harmony. 

He had been constantly tapping his fingers on his 
knee — tensing them at the joint from habit, and as 
he swept Dory out of his mind he sighed and looked 
with pleasure around that palatial room. And Margot 

— who sank deeper in the huge amber-colored pillow 

— Margot, with that black fluffy hair — the loose 
large mouth — rather long nose — the cool perfumed 
hands with their shining pink nails and that odor of 
amber about her. The luxury of the moment pleased 
him. He wanted to play — now. 

“ Stay with me this afternoon, Jules,” pleaded 
Margot. “ Well forget about the lesson and at five 
we’ll go to vespers at the Cathedral.” 

“ You to the Cathedral, Margot? I never knew 
you went to church! ” 

“ I scarcely ever do — but I thought it would 
please you to go. You — under this new influence 
of your wife — you seem to have taken to religion 
lately.” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Jules, and the incessant dumb 
practicing on his knees grew quicker. “ Yes, Margot 
dear. Occasionally I go into the church — to mass — 
and immediately, in that beautiful enclosure, I leave 


220 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


the common riff-raff in which I live, behind — the 
common herd is far away. In that temple, with the 
dark jeweled windows — those colors that satisfy 
every craving of my eyes for beauty — I kneel 
awhile, and I hear that music — so sweet ” — (and 
closing his eyes, Jules gesticulated like an Italian. He 
raised his shoulders ecstatically as he continued) — 
“ Harmony vibrating in every corner of that vast 
place, tingling in my nerves to the very tips of my 
fingers — and as it rises to its fullest melody of bells ” 
— Jules raised his hands and paused for a moment 
as his eyes expressed the devout congregation — “ the 
people hold their breath — and then again — those 
bells — the faint smell of incense rises over us. The 
priest in his wonderful raiment, lifts the — the what is 
it — the sacrament — before giving them the blessed 
bread to eat — ah, Margot, if only at that moment a 
beautiful woman appeared — as God made her — per¬ 
haps some scant Greek robe draped around her — 
and danced — as they did in the Hindoo service — ” 

“ Jules! ” 

“ Yes, every sense is appealed to — sight — hear¬ 
ing — taste — smell — every one but feeling. Ah, 
the Hindoos understood that woman is the most won¬ 
derful stimulation of all! ” This unguarded speech 
was accompanied with many gestures. 

“ My poetic Jules! ” Margot passed her hand slow¬ 
ly over his. “ I fear you can’t be saved! You are 
incorrigible! ” He kissed the hand, ignoring the 
fact that she wished to leave it within his. He 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


221 


almost pushed it away. A fear of something quite 
impalpable passed over him. Shutting it out, he 
lighted a cigarette and went over to the piano and as 
he smoked, played. He poured himself into the Fan¬ 
tasia of Chopin — and the spirit of Chopin poured 
itself through him. His thoughts ceased when music 
began, and as the music was divine, so was the trans¬ 
formation of his face divine — the pearly perfection 
of his notes — the deep, delicate throb seemed incon¬ 
sistent with the man’s own moral weakness. What 
angel of light guided his hand causing those poignant 
vibrations to fill the room — what demon of dark¬ 
ness dampened Mrs. Strange’s languorous eyes as at 
the finale she went slowly to the piano! 

Leaning over it, she mutely thanked him by slowly 
pressing her finger-tips over his hand. 

Jules felt as if some sensual spirit had stolen out 
of a world of mystery. Was it the amber perfume — 
the violets in the ivory bowl? Or that loose, smiling 
mouth of Margot Strange! Quickly he leaned over 
and kissed her. 

“ How happy we have been this last week,” whis¬ 
pered Margot. Think of the time we have lost, boy 
— all, all the time when I have not belonged to you 
I count lost.” 

But Jules scarcely heard her words; he only knew 
that for months she had excited his senses with her 
nearness to him. Now, for a week she had been his, 
all his. He thought of nothing else but selfish, satis¬ 
fied sensuality when he possessed her. After? Each 


222 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


time remorse. But now once more he thought only 
of the essence of the moment. 

Suddenly, startled at some sound, Margot looked 
quickly over Jules’ shoulder. It had grown quite dark 
in the room. As Jules was about to reassure her, 
the woman in his arms with the disheveled hair 
screamed. For close to them, like a mad girl, was 

the staring, white face of Dory. 

* 

• •••••• • 

Jealousy had possessed her as she waited in vain 
for Jules’ return to her and the child. Jealousy gave 
her the strength to dress and go to the Strange house 
— the cunning to get into the house quietly without 
ringing the bell, while the butler happened to be at 
the door — and she sped up the stairs and to the 
right, through the damask curtains to — death and 
disillusion. 

The cold wave of a year’s disillusion seemed to 
break over her as the blood left her head and she 
softly advanced towards them. For a moment there 
was an eternity of suffocation. 

But before the petrified couple came to life, Doreen 
had tottered towards the door, had run down the stairs 
and had been lost in the New York crowds. 


CHAPTER XXII 


S OME hours later, Dory found herself standing) 
in the drug shop on 23rd Street and 4th Ave¬ 
nue. Much walking had cleared her brain. 
She was quite controlled and positive about her course 
of action. 

Economic independence she must have. Remem¬ 
bering that Felix Strange had offered her a position 
as a singer in his Club, to furnish part of the musical 
programme every evening, at fifty dollars a week, 
she decided to call Felix up at his office. Then, too, 
was Felix not her only friend now? There really 
was no one else she cared about, — no woman friend, 
no relative. 

“ 1-5-0-2 Greeley,” she called through the ’phone 
tube. 

“ Mr. Strange? ” 

“ Just a moment. ” 

Then his resonant voice: “ Yes? ” 

“ This is Dory, Felix. I am in trouble and need 
you, Felix. Will you come to me? ” 

“ But where are you, child? ” 

She told, adding, “ I really need you right away if 
you could manage it.” 

“ Yes, surely, Dory. I’ll hop in my car and pick 
you up in about ten minutes.” 

223 


224 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


Myriads of people passed by — all intent upon 
their own interests — hurrying. One jostled her into 
a corner — a “ vague gawk ” of a girl had no business 
blocking the traffic — they must have room to scurry 
a wav. 

•r 

An old paper woman asked her if she’d like the 
Evening Journal. Yes — Dory handed her a nickel, 
telling her to keep it. 

44 Well, God love ye — that’s the best five cents 
ye iver spint! ” 

The Stranges’ limousine stopped noiselessly at the 
door and Felix stepped out, and leaned his chamois- 
gloved hand upon his cane as he looked about. Then 
people saw him walk towards the red-haired girl 
crouched in the corner and lead and lift her tenderly 
into the deep-cushioned car. As they drove away, 
their hands were clasped quietly together. 

44 Through the Park,” called Felix to his chauffeur. 
“ Now, Dory dear, don’t talk, relax your poor little 
hand and let the air bring back color to those dear 
cheeks.” 

44 First, Felix, did you mean what you said about 
the fifty a week salary at the Strange Club if I 
wished to work?” She spoke like a marionette — 
her voice seemed to be no part of her. 

“ Yes, of course.” 

44 Well I accept — that is the first and most im¬ 
portant help.” 

44 You know, dear, if you need money, I’d gladly 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


225 

let you have some without working, but you have 
always been so very proud.” 

“ No — no, Felix, but for this job I’m thankful.” 

Then quite abruptly she said: 

“ Would you give me the first week’s salary in 
advance? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ I need it. I have left Jules — I have to take 
the baby over to that hotel in Washington Square 
today. I’ll move from there in a week to Forest 
Hills, where I can afford to hire a little girl for $20 
a month, and board for two is $24 a week, and there 
will be plenty for extras for baby and me.” 

“ Now tell me everything, Dory.” 

But she turned her head and looked out of the 
window as one does when one is riding along a 
flowery plain on a lovely day in a black-draped 
carriage behind a hearse. 

“ I don’t know how I can tell you, Felix — you to 
whom I feel nearer than anyone on earth You are 
the last person I can really — tell.” 

In that moment Dory resembled her mother. 

Felix understood that he must not press her. There 
was something about the brevity of her sentences — 
the stoicism of her manner — that had the finality 
of death. 

Suddenly a light! “I — I think I know, Dory,” 
he said, “ the — ” 

Dory turned to him. “ You can't know! ” The 


226 INVISIBLE WINGS 

tacit response enlightened Felix. “ No — no — not 
you! ” 

“ Margot — ” he began, in a tone which he decided 
could be formed into some trivial remark if Dory 
did not immediately respond. 

Grasping his hand tighter, she asked quickly: 
“ How did you know, Felix — Felix? ” 

“ Tell me one thing, Dory — did you — did you 
see — you mean you witnessed — ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Thank God! ” 

“ Why do you say that, Felix? ” 

“ I’m sorry — it’s selfish, Dory. But sooner or 
later you must know of what frail stuff Jules is made 
and I — I have known for years how rotten Margot 
is — what an underhanded game she plays” 

“ Felix, there are things which are so delicate and 
so terrible in this world — I — I could never really 
be a witness — I mean on the stand. It doesn’t seem 
real — all this — does it — it does not seem real — 
does it to you? ” 

“ Oh, damn real to me, Dory. I’ll divorce her now, 
all right — some time ago in any of the several other 
affairs she’s had since our marriage, I’d let her get 
one from me — but now — now — now for this, I’ll 
show her up! Don’t worry, dear child — no one else 
shall hurt you or humiliate you.” 

Dory never remembered much about the rest of 
their conversation as they sped back through the 
Park. It seemed to consist of disjointed sentences 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


227 


about Jules, Margot, Zoe, Felix, the baby and herself. 
“ You will come to see me at the hotel, Felix? ” 

“ When? ” 

“ Tomorrow.” 

“ Good-bye — God bless you, child.” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


D ORY’S room in the Dutland Hotel overlooked 
Washington Park — from another direction 
than the studio which she had left. 

Sun flickered in upon the dingy furniture from the 
alcove, where the nurse slept. From below one heard 
the busses go by — and the chatter of people in the 
next room. One smelt the strong odor of fish which 
was invariably cooked with onions and cabbage, and 
still later, one tasted the dish which was always in 
some way spoiled — burned, over-seasoned — a little 
bit bad, perhaps laden with heavy grease. And indeed 
grease seemed everywhere. There was even grease 
on the banisters — one felt it if by any chance one 
were seeking for support to descend the steep steps. 

Like a child Jules had wept and begged her to 
forgive him. He had told her he would shoot himself 
if she left him and that she would be responsible for 
his death. He swore that Margot Strange was nothing 
to him but something to satisfy the senses. True, 
she had begged him, Jules, to leave his wife and go 
away with her, but he had no intention of doing it! 
He told Dory so with a touch of pride. 

“ You are my life — I can’t go on without you,” 
this he repeated over and over. 

“ Oh, Jules,” said Dory, “ how can you say that 
— you lie to me always — your unfaithfulness — ” 

228 


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229 


“ Yes — yes — it is hideous, Dory — but listen to 
me — try to understand, Dory — it was a mere physi¬ 
cal infidelity — you are so young and innocent, 
dearest — but you know from now after this horrible 
experience — that that happens to all men — it is 
nothing connected with their minds — or hearts — it 
is something over which they have no control — it’s 
a thing for which they are not blamed by God nor 
the world.” 

“ Jules, if I had been unfaithful to you — what 
then? ” 

“ But with a woman it is different — if she loses 
her virtue she is an outcast — branded by the world 
as a sinner — that is the way of the world, Dory — ” 

“ I don’t agree.” 

“ It is a recognized fact, nevertheless.” 

“ A sin is a wrong thing regardless of the person’s 
sex who committed it.” 

“ Dearest, I’m not trying to palliate the wrong I’ve 
done, but you must remember a man can sin and 
care for another woman with all his heart and mind 
and body, as I do for you — ” 

“ No man, nor woman, can do that.” 

“ But Dory, you’re impossible, the way you insist 
upon this — you talk like a suffragette — ” 

“ That is what I am, with all the ardor of my 
youth and strength! ” 

And before the fierce fire in her eyes the man 
recoiled — and buried his head in his hands. “ Oh, 
Dory,” he cried, “ if you will only try to forget this 


230 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


you will never regret it! I need you so — I need 
you to counsel me — to — to love me — and yet, just 
on the eve of my success — you forsake me — ! ” 

“ The success which has been paid for by that 
woman! ” 

“ But I’ll give all that up — I’ll never play again, 
Dory.” And he spoke of doing many other things 
which he knew she would not permit him to do. 

In the midst of this, Dory said in a quiet voice: 
“ No, Jules — make your success — I wish only 
what is good for you, and you need not feel it is given 
you by — her — remember her money has all been 
given by Felix. It is Felix who has given the 
money! ” 

“ But I’ll give it all up, I tell you — all, all — 
everything! God, what do I want with it now? ” 

Dory realized, as Jules did, that he had no intention 
of giving it up, but she sat down and talked calm- 
ingly to him. “You must remember, there are other 
people concerned now — the impresario with whom 
you have signed a contract and who has agreed to 
give you practically all his time — would be out of 
a job for a year — his family would suffer — the 
publicity man — your accompanist. It is too late for 
you to turn back — go and do your work like a real 
person — earn the money and pay them back — pay 
back in a year as you unquestionably can, since now 
everyone is looking forward eagerly to hearing the 
great — Jules Blenner.” 

He dropped to his knees before her. “ Dory, my 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


231 


mother girl, won’t you forgive me? You won’t take 
the baby and leave me, will you? ” 

And as he saw the softened look in her face, he 
added: “ Try to remember that this is not a sin for a 
man — a physical infidelity does not mean dam¬ 
nation, as it would with a woman! ” 

“ And I repeat a sin is a sin regardless of the sex 
of the person who commits it. But,” and her voice 
lowered like the saddest music as she spoke slowly 
and distinctly, “ I do not condemn you for that, Jules 
— anyone is liable to fall — anyone — as far as that 
is concerned, Jules, I forgive you — quite — quite 
entirely. It is for something very different that I 
have decided to live away from you. It is for your 
cruel neglect of me during my illness — your bitter 
words to me about all the little unimportant things 
that would hurt me day by day — for which at the 
time I never reproved you — and the final fact that 
you were unfaithful to me such a little while after 
the birth of your child — simply weak and unfaith¬ 
ful — you went to another woman after all I had 
been to you. And in that moment you killed my 
love — my love for you died in a moment, that can 
never be wiped from my memory.” 

But he fell upon his knees and begged her to listen 
once more. “ My girl, you are mine — mine — you 
imagine all this — it’s only a horrible dream! It 
never happened, I tell you — you must try to think 
that, Dory — it never happened! ” 

But her voice was still steady, and she was unmoved 
by the well-known frenzies of her husband. 


232 INVISIBLE WINGS 

“ You think I am still your wife, because you see 
me standing before you. It is only that, unlike Jack, 
who fainted as he saw Zoe’s coffin descending into 
the ground, — you have not seen my body lowered 
into my grave. But my heart, my heart, is quite 
dead, Jules — as far as you are concerned.” 


CHAPTER XXIV 


O N the evening of the same day Felix knocked 
at the door and was bidden to enter. There 
was Mrs. Jules Blenner standing near the 
crib of her baby son. She seemed like a pale rose 
trembling in a brutal wind. 

“ Hallo, Dory! ” 

She smiled as she came towards him. Felix noted 
with pleasure that once more she was very slender — 
her body tapering as did her long rounded limbs, and 
with her lazy movements, she seemed to radiate a 
strange quiet. 

“ You have not seen my beautiful small son yet, 
have you, Felix? ” 

He admitted that at the hospital he had only caught 
a glimpse of a very wriggling bundle. 

And so Dory led him over to the little basket and 
as he heartily showed his approval and experienced 
the delightful sensation of a surprisingly strong tiny 
fist clasping his index finger, he looked at the young 
mother whose soul seemed to rise and shine in her 
eyes like an exquisite dark flower on the surface of 
a silvery pool. 

For some time they talked, going over all the past 
from the time that Felix knew Dory’s mother. They 


233 


234 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


talked of Mrs. Sand; Felix said she was now in a 
sanitarium for the hopelessly insane. 

“ The expenses are not very large — but I have 
agreed to pay them — always.” 

“ Ah, Felix — that is good of you.” 

“ No, no. She’s just a poor old wreck. God knows 
she is paying for her wrongs now — as for Zoe.” 

“ Ah, Felix, try to feel toward Zoe as I — after 
long prayer — managed to feel toward Jules. It is 
hard — hard — one must pray for it! But don’t send 
her any evil thoughts where she is — nor judge her 
for her sins. It seems so pitiful for one little mortal 
to stand up and judge another little mortal for its 
sin. How God must laugh! He who sees the mon¬ 
strous hand of circumstance driving us! If our souls 
could only expand to be in tune with His. ‘ He that 
hath not sinned — let him cast the first stone.’ 
Where is there a finer line than that? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Felix, as he fumbled a trifle un¬ 
comfortably. “ Christ was certainly greater than 
Shakespeare.” 

Dory made a little moue at him. “ Sacrilegious 
Felix! ” 

“ But you know, Dory, you have made me think. 
I was very serious and straight and all that sort of 
thing when I married Margot, but when I saw her 
game and how little there was in it for me, I switched 
off. One of the ‘ people,’ as you know, was Zoe — 
but there were others before that. At those times, I 
thought only of myself — and while I’ve caused some 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


235 

suffering in my life, I, — well, that line about ‘ Let 
him who has not sinned ’ is a good one, dear, very 
good. Once I was in love, really in love, when I was 
very young; the chances were good for home, children, 
all those things that I — I really wanted. But she 
was declasse — from my ambitious mother’s point of 
view — and I seem to have been a dirty little snob, 
though I must admit I did fight against it.” 

“ Is that the girl who committed suicide? ” 

“Yes, Dory.” He contracted his brows till the 
lines between them were painfully bent and fumbled 
nervously with his cigarette case. 

To change the subject, Dory talked of Harry Bal- 
ster. “ Do you ever hear of him? ” 

“ Oh, yes. He comes to see my wife very often. 
His love of scandal absolutely satisfies Margot. He’s 
really feminine in his love of Mrs. Grundy — ” 

“ Ah, Felix, it seems to me there are just as many 
men rotters as there are women — and as many de¬ 
cent men as there are women. All this business of 
giving sex to sins seems wrong and unjust to me. 
Take our own lives for instance! ” 

“ Yes, yes,” as he slunk down in his chair and 
selected a gold-tipped cigarette from a long jeweled 
case. 

“ Felix,” said Dory earnestly, “ for every Harry 
Balster there is a Margot Strange.” 

“ That’s right — right, Dory, absolutely. Well put, 
too. You know, dear, you are a clever child. You 
must be ambitious and make something of yourself. 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


236 

I feel you have a message of some kind for the world. 
Ah, if there is ever anything I can do to pay back 
your enormous service to me in ridding me of that 
wife of mine. I tell you, Dory, that among other 
things, she is the most arrant liar. I could never get 
the truth out of her. Pussy-footing is about the only 
thing that interests her. That woman positively 
could not exist without an intrigue of some kind. And 
yet she sticks on to me. Of course it’s only for 
money and position. I’ve known this for years. And 
while Jules has shown himself up to be just about 
as rotten and small as his colleague, Jack Harrington, 
I think that Margot is entirely culpable in this case.” 

“ Felix, in this case, the man and woman, Jules 
and Margot, are equally culpable — quite equally.” 

“ Well, all right, child, have it your own way.” 
And he gazed with a smile at the violet rings of smoke 
he blew up to the dirty ceiling — and years seemed to 
drop from his brow as he thought that at last he 
would be rid of that virulent woman. Some alimony 
she’d have — oh, yes!—but not too damn much! 
It was almost inconceivable to him — to the passive, 
controlled Felix Strange, that he could hate anyone 
as much as he now hated his wife. 

While he paused, Dory thought of the day that 
Margot Strange helped if indeed she did not entirely 
cause Jules’ father to humiliate — repudiate her and 
her babe. Then she said: “ Does it not seem strange, 
Felix, that I, who have been practically sent from 
Jules’ father’s house by the respected Margot 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


237 

Strange’s influence — as if I were a foul thing — that 
I, Doreen Blenner, should be the influence that causes 
her to be sent ignominiously from her high state by 
her own husband, who can prove that she is a foul 
thing! ” 

“ Yes, Dory, it is the law of compensation.” 

And once more he gazed at the smoke rings, and 
this time up to the dirty ceiling. “ I say, Dory, this 
place is an awful hole; you must let me give you 
some money.” 

“ No; I shall have plenty in my salary, — thanks, 
my friend.” 

“ How wonderful she is,” thought Felix. “ Women 
like Dory are wonderful creatures. They have the 
great hearts whose warmth keeps the world alive — 
they have beauty and intelligence, they are super¬ 
women! “ Yes,” thought Felix, reflecting once more 
as his eye smiled upon Dory’s luxuriant red hair, 
“ they are very few — like this — damn few! ” And 
he threw his cigarette into the fireplace as he rose 
to go. 

“ Well then, Dory, on Friday, home? ” 

“ Yes,” she said as her gentle solemn eyes interro¬ 
gated him. “ You know, Felix, I don’t quite under¬ 
stand about your club — ” 

Whereat Felix became once more very explicit. 
“ The purpose of the Strange Club, is to bring to¬ 
gether magazine writers interested — as they all are, 
in one of the great subjects of the times. These speak 
and listen to their fellows speak and once a week I 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


238 

publish in the Strange Magazine two of the articles 
that are written as a result of this. 

“ Oh, Felix, I meditate very often on the subject 
of child labor. The crime of it — the abolition of 
that and the wisdom of vocational training ” — she 
tautened and declared “ I could lecture on the sub¬ 
ject.” 

“ Dory, child, you have the expression of a beauti¬ 
ful prophetess — you shall speak this very next 
Friday if you’ll make out notes and let me look them 
over — ” 

“ You mean that, Felix? ” 

It was Felix who introduced Dory. Taking her 
hand like a little child’s, he led her upon the plat¬ 
form. In a few words he told the audience of this 

F 

new, inexperienced lecturer, in whose heart burned 
the desire for the abolition of child labor so ardently 
that he was glad to give her the opportunity of 
expressing it to the members of his Society as she had 
to him. There was a faint stir in the audience, for 
Dory now looked younger than her twenty years. The 
arrangement of her red hair gave the effect of its 
being bobbed. The blood which was so near her 
skin had suffused the delicate surface with rose. She 
wore a severely-cut dark green dress buttoned tightly 
with braided frogs across her bust, like a little boy’s 
jacket, exposing a column-like throat, with a white, 
turned-down collar of the same material as the plain 
cuffs at her wrists. She still had that strange quiet 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


239 

which seemed to emanate from her ever since the time 
of her sorrow, and in her brown eyes was the spiritual 
light of the fanatic. 

Of her audience she felt no fear, though she 
glanced from time to time at her notes on the little 
table near by. For the most part, the words seemed 
to flow miraculously through her, out of the universe. 

From the introduction she held the people with the 
soft richness, the delicate intonations of her voice, 
and she spoke with the eloquence of an inspired 
priestess. 

She had few notes and evidently well understood 
her subject — child labor. 

Concealing his nervousness, Felix sat down in the 
front row scarcely hearing her lovely voice, just pray¬ 
ing for her success. Because of his “ stage-fright ” 
for her, he caught but morsels of the lecture. From 
her notes she read: 

“ As Don Marquis remarked, ‘ One trouble with this 
country is that so many persons think that a matter 
has been settled as soon as a committee is formed and 
a few slogans are written.’ But what actually are we 
going to do,” she asked, “ and do at once about the 
overworked, underfed child of America? 

“ We must eradicate this before we can even con¬ 
sider any other so-called important needs of our 
country. Of course we want to protect all the chil¬ 
dren of our nation and develop them to be normal, 
intelligent, efficient citizens. We know that the ages 


2 4 o INVISIBLE WINGS 

of between fourteen and sixteen are particularly 
plastic years.” 

Felix cringed from an ominous intuition — what 
was Doreen going to do — he remembered that be¬ 
tween fourteen and sixteen was the age of most of 
Balster’s employees! Was she going to denounce him 
publicly? She would ruin him! 

“ And yet — the burden of family support falls on 
these children particularly in our factory towns. Not 
only the body of these poor children is ground into 
the machinery for the consummation of money lords, 
but their plastic sensitive minds — hence their pathetic 
and eventually degenerate morals. Any individual 
who interferes with the childhood of our nation, who 
retards its development, should be regarded as a 
criminal.” 

Here there was applause. Doreen stopped and 
continued; she proceeded to describe the sordid con¬ 
dition of the children found working in packing 
houses, candy-makers, children working in the beet 
fields, the cotton fields, and worst of all in all kinds 
of factories, sweat-shops and artificial flower factories. 

“ The irony of it! ” she cried. “ And I ask you ” 
— she was dramatic in her appeal, “ do you as loyal 
Americans approve of any man so lacking in heart 
and conscience that he boasts of employing three 
hundred children making artificial flowers in one of 
his factories? ” 

Felix went ashen pale, his revenge and Doreen’s 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


241 


was to be realized with the revenge of countless 
cheated children. 

“ Well then,” she asked, “ I tell you that Mr. 
Harry Balster,the man our people propose for a public 
office, is the owner of several factories and that he 
fattens on child labor. Do you think that should be 
tolerated? I can prove this outrage is true, and I call 
upon you, one and all, to join me in denouncing him 
and his kind.” 

The applause was great and lasted for many mo¬ 
ments; there were tears in the eyes of her audience. 
She had triumphed. Her few concluding lines were 
spoken gravely, quietly. Beyond doubt she had con¬ 
vinced the people, of that there was no doubt. Felix 
helped her descend from the speaker’s platform and, 
seeing that she was confused and embarrassed, spared 
her the ordeal of meeting the many people who 
awaited an introduction. He led her away to his pri¬ 
vate office. “ You were glorious,” he whispered, 
“ We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” and hustled her into 
his waiting car. 

She found the baby sleeping peacefully beside his 
nurse and a great flood of nameless emotions closed 
over Doreen. She went quickly to her room grasping 
her aching throat. After closing the door quietly 
behind her, Dory flung herself down on the floor and 
sobbed, throwing her body like a wild thing from 
side to side and reaching her arms up like twisted 
little branches to the sky. 

When the storm of her weeping was over, thoughts 


242 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


came as flowers bloom in the silence after a heavy 
rain. Her vague fingers found the note-book she 
kept as she read, and that at night was always kept 
near her pillow. 

“ Discriminate between justice and selfishness.” 

“ Say not in presumptuous pride that you will bear 
all suffering, say rather you will uplift the world by 
being better and happier yourself.” 

“ Misery like happiness is contagious.” 

“ To be miserable is but to increase the misery of 
the world.” 

“ To be joyful is to increase the joy of the world.” 

There were two hours with these thoughts and 
these alone, then Dory bathed her face in Eau de 
Cologne. “ Now I am peaceful, little soul,” she 
breathed. 


CHAPTER XXV 


S ILVIA VAN TWILLER surveyed herself in the 
mirror. “ Not so good/’ she finally decided. 
Wrapping her shabby dressing-robe about her, 
she shivered and sat down upon the bed. 

‘‘’Well, this is certainly a fine ending! ” she con¬ 
tinued aloud. Silvia was addressing her wardrobe 
trunk and she shrugged her heavy shoulders at the 
room in contempt. 

“ It’s getting to be the same old story,” said she. 
“ No money, no friend, no job! Nothing much to this 
bachelor life for me any longer, I guess! ” 

Taking her clothes out of the trunk she started to 
arrange them. She sniffed at the musty smelling oak 
wardrobe with its defective mirror, and swore at the 
oak bureau whose drawers stuck. There was also 
one iron bed and one kitchen chair. “ Gee whiz,” 
said Silvia, “ this room is just furnished and that is 
all.” In her rummaging she came across a crystal 
flask which had been given her by Belle Sand. This 
brought another sniff. “Just as well you’re in the 
coo-coo factory, Bella, my dear, the good old days of 
a pint for a dollar are gone forever! ” 

This speech seemed to amuse Silvia very much, and 
she began to gesticulate and nod her head so violently 
that she would seem to a mere onlooker, pretty well 
on the road to “ Coo-coodom ” herself. 


243 


244 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


Then suddenly an idea fixed itself in her mind. She 
lighted a cigarette and sat down on the bed. Why 
not try for Harry herself! Bella was out of the way. 
He had been publicly disgraced by that clever O’Moore 
girl — the papers had not stopped jeering at him and 
constantly reminded him America did not want him; 
well, Silvia reasoned, he had a flock of money and 
she preferred Europe to America, — any day. He had 
gone in for flappers lately and had been properly 
stung and — she might get him on the rebound. “ If 
I can get hold of the stupid old ox, I will marry him, 
anything would be better than this! ” She began 
humming a popular song, “ If you don’t think so, 
you’re crazy,” and was quite cheerful. Then out 
came the old electric iron and Silvia set to work. The 
black satin gown was pressed, the black suede slippers 
were powdered, the best pair of silk stockings from 
the drawer full of defectives were selected. Then 
there was her own person which took quite an hour. 
The few wisps of burnt hair were screwed up on 
top of her head, and the freshly coiled transformation 
did credit to the hairdresser At last Silvia was com¬ 
plete. A luncheon engagement was made with Harry 
and she sat down to enjoy a cigarette and a con¬ 
versation with herself before starting. “ Very shortly 
the curtain goes up,” said she to herself, “ you are 
the sad little woman who craves the companionship 
which only a gentle cultured man like Harry can 
give you. He will not believe you at first — but you 
will convince him before the luncheon is over.” Silvia 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


245 


looked in the mirror. Yes, the character was dressed 
correctly. She could find no fault with that. “ He 
will allow no one but himself to protect you — or 
else — ” she flung the cigarette into a glass, “ or else 
you’re a hell of a poor actress! ” 

So it came to pass that Harry Balster met his 
Waterloo. Three months later, Mr. and Mrs. Bal¬ 
ster were in Paris on their honeymoon and no more 
miserable man could be found than the ox-like Harry. 


CHAPTER XXVI 


T WO months passed. Already Dory had become 

a fervent and eloquent public speaker whose 
presence at the Strange and other institutions 
became a feature of New York life. 

The month of April. Spring. The eternal miracle 
of spring and all living things pulsated to its embrace 
and promise. Two months Dory had lived away from 
her husband and the baby had grown while she 
worked for him — and audiences had wept and had 
been inspired by her. 

Jules had taken what money he had (very little) 
and had left for Paris, where he assured himself he 
would find real appreciation of his art and personal 
oblivion. 

Jules in Paris, Doreen in Forest Hills — from the 
sublime to the — er — suburban, you may say. But 
in that prosaic town on Long Island one smells the 
flowers of spring — one feels the sympathy of one’s 
fellow citizens — one tastes the rich milk of America 
and sees the quaint charming little homes that speak 
protection. 

And into her room down in Forest Hills, the moon¬ 
light streamed after Doreen had spent herself singing 
or discoursing. Moonlight on the face of her babe, 
who snuggled to her breast clutched her silken throat 

246 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


247 


with warm vague fingers. Did the little fellow sense 
the empty hurt which caused such a deep sigh as 
she laid him on his pillow? 

Perhaps it was to cheer her in the morning that 
he chuckled so when she put him in his bath, and he 
made droll little grimaces when she dried him in hot 
towels and took him once more to her breast. 

That morning at the telephone, she learned that 
her old friend, Sister Sebastian, was in New York for 
a few days and wished to see her. It was not very 
long before the kindly old woman had Dory in her 
arms, and was kissing her on both cheeks. To this 
dear friend Dory had written many of the events of 
her own and of Zoe’s life since the time they had 
left the convent, and the letters she had written to 
Dory in response were always comprehending, pro¬ 
tective, and full of warnings. 

“ Ah, and the little baby, is he well? ” 

And Dory delivered a panegyric on the baby. 

“ But what a wonderful girl you are, Dory — I 
have read accounts of your discourses and everyone 
talks of them. We agree about the wisdom of voca¬ 
tional training. There are few spirits like yours valiant 
enough to triumph over difficulties.” 

“ Oh,” Dory closed her eyes and shrugged her 
shoulders, “ it . . 

But the nun insisted, “ Yes, Dory, you are the 
exception. God has called you for some great work 
in the world! Because of your teachings the way 
will be made easier for hosts of children.” 


248 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


“ But no — I,” Dory was confused. 

“ And you are an example. We are so proud of 
you — you are a good mother, and therefore prove 
the doctrines you preach.” 

But Dory stopped her. “ Sister,” she said, “ I am 
doing a thing now that I know to be wrong. Theo¬ 
retically, I suppose I’m right. Most women seem to 
think it right to leave their husbands if they are un¬ 
faithful to them — you have heard of our separa¬ 
tion? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ But I feel — I feel something is wrong,” said 
Dory. 

“ Ah, child, I knew your heart would speak. I 
must tell you that Jules wrote to me and begged me 
to intercede for him with you and now as I come 
to you, my poor Dory, I know that all these long 
years you spent with us, when, unlike the other girls, 
you used to go of your own accord and remain long 
hours every day in meditation, will help you now. 
I know that heavenly lights permeated your soul, and 
gave you more intelligence than the ordinary girl — 
more heart — more refinement.” And she looked into 
the wistful face. 

“ I will spare you telling me the details — Jules 
has confessed his sin. They say he is a good musi¬ 
cian.” 

“Oh, Sister, he is a divine musician! ” 

“ My child, when one thinks of the geniuses of 
all centuries it would seem that the more sensitive 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


249 


they are to art, the more gifted the spirit of our 
great muscians, the more pathetically of the earth 
is the flesh that envelops it! Sinned he has indeed, 
my child, but the blessing of your forgiveness can 
be greater than the iniquity of his sin.” 

But Dory could not tell the holy woman that 
‘ au fond ’ — it was not alone the breaking of a com¬ 
mandment. She heard the gentle voice of the nun 
continue, “ When you hear him play — ” 

When he played! — In fancy Dory did hear him, 
the soft touch of his muscular hands upon the keys 
— she heard! Indeed the greater the gift of the 
musician’s spirit the more pathetically of the earth 
seems the flesh that envelops it! Thought! There 
is nothing more wonderful than the exquisite world 
created by thought. Through the minds of inspired 
thinkers we can indeed choose what path we wish 
to traverse; down the apple blossom one of spring¬ 
time to the sound of silver flutes which Beethoven 
has composed; through the deep shadows of some 
mysterious moonlit forest, to the sound of some 
sonorous organ. And the creators of these worlds? 

Jules, as he bent over his instrument, ruled people’s 
souls — their spirits turned towards their God as 
they were sensitized by the music of — one like Jules! 
“ Dory, do you hear me? ” 

“ Pardon, Sister? ” 

“ I say, suppose God took your child from you 
even as you have taken him away from Jules? ” 

A wave of human kindness passed over Dory — a 


250 INVISIBLE WINGS 

normal craving for her child’s father. Her baby and 
her husband! 

At that moment the Angelus rung. “ Now go to 
Chapel, dear — stay alone — for an hour. Then I 
will come. Our Lord will help you. Dory, I feel 
way within me that you will return because it is your 
duty to return” 

The words of Christ were mentally written before 
her — “I am the way, the truth, and the light.” Ah, 
surely by this he meant the true ego—our inner 
selves. “ Liken yourself unto Me.” Meditating upon 
these words, Dory listened to her conscience, for she 
knew that in the silence, it would permeate her 
with the knowledge of wrong — of right. 

Forgiveness — “ Go and sin no more,” Christ had 
said after having freely forgiven. 

And then in the silence, Dory drew still more within 
herself. She turned and turned the little band of gold 
in her fingers. Suddenly the words Jules spoke as he 
placed it there resounded — “ With this ring I thee 
wed — ” and hot tears were in her eyes as she gazed 
blindly at the tapestry which hung on the stone wall. 

She wondered in a panic-stricken way what had 
become of Jules. She had received no word of him 
in months. What was he doing! Perhaps starving — 
perhaps dead in Paris. 

She no longer thought of his cruelty to her, to their 
child. The dominant passion of a real woman pos¬ 
sessed her; the thing which Zoe had been born without, 
the instinct countless women never know, — Mater- 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


251 


nity! That quality possessed countless times by those 
who have never realized its completion as in the case 
of those fortunate ones who bring life into the world. 
It is a real woman’s protective impulse for any help¬ 
less creature, be it man, woman or child. And where 
her own heart is concerned how poignant this im¬ 
pulse becomes! 

In the silence, Doreen forgave Jules. His inevit¬ 
able helplessness brought an ache to her throat. 
Everything else faded into insignificance. 

• ••••••• 

Just a month later old Mr. Blenner died. He was 
found in his chair one afternoon with his hand grip¬ 
ping some money in his pockets and the poor old 
body quite rigid. 

But near the end he had been enlightened and his 
heart had changed, as you will see by the copy of 
his will. 

“ This is my last will and testament. I wish my 
son Jules to have absolutely no authority over any 
material thing belonging to me. He has betrayed his 
wife and mother of his child and has all his life-long 
taken the course of least resistance regardless of the 
happiness of those about him. 

“ I bequeath all my possessions to my grandson, 
Shawn Blenner, and wish his mother, my esteemed 
daughter-in-law, to be appointed his rightful guard- 


CHAPTER XXVII 


A N emaciated creature strode into a cheap cafe in 
Montmartre, a cabaret in Paris which was so 
filthy that even curious tourists would not 
descend, which is saying something. It reeked of 
smoke, of evil smells. At the greasy tottering tables 
many creatures sat like phantasms — most of them 
hollow-eyed slovens; a few over-hilarious, a few hope¬ 
lessly depressed. 

Someone was playing a “ jazz ” on the piano, but 
no one paid much attention. Suddenly an Apache 
cried, “ Ask the American to play an old-time rag, 
they were the best years ago when I was a youth.” 

“ Dites done, American, can you play a tune called 
‘ Take me back to New York town ’ ? ” 

“ Yes — mats out, monsieur! ” 

The Apache went over to sit with the newcomer. 
Newcomers interested him, for more reasons than one. 

“ Ah,” said he to the emaciated one, “ the music 
of the Americans, it is like wine to my soul — I have 
never been in that country myself — but, pardon, 
monsieur , est-ce que vous etes Anglais? ” 

“ No, I am an American — when I left my country 
I was finished with it — with life! ” 

“ Aha, mon ami,” replied the Apache, “ I can, if 
you will pardon a ‘ vieux gaiard ’ like myself, I think 

252 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


253 


I can see in your eye, it is a woman — you will 
admit I am a psychologist, monsieur. I am right? 
But come — do not talk, have a porto with me. 
Gargon! — s’il vous plait — ” then bowing to his 
companion — “ my name is Jean LeFebre! ” 

The stranger peered at him sullenly as he answered, 
“ My name is Harrington — Jack Harrington.” 

“ Ah! ” said LeFebre, as the gargon brought their 
drinks. “ We shall talk it all over, mon ami — at 
the moment it is — what shall I say? — rotting your 
soul? ” 

“ What is — ” 

“ The — secret sense of your wrongs, monsieur — 
the wrongs thees — thees leetle woman have done for 
you! N’est-ce pas? ” 

There was no answer. The American acted as if 
he were daft and seemed to only half register what 
his companion was saying. But nothing daunted, the 
magnetic Apache was interested and continued. His 
dark eyes were sad and his mouth, even his shoulders 
smiled! 

“ Ah, monsieur, you cannot be ’appy because you 
’ave not ze object in your hands. But what is it your 
Blake says, 

“ ‘ He who holds to himself joy 
Doth the winged life destroy; 

But he who keeses ze joy as it flies, 

Lives in Eternity’s sunrise! ’ ” 

Jack looked into the darkly blazing eyes of his 
new friend and repeated the last lines, admitted their 



254 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


beauty and truth, and they both drank silently as they 
gazed into their individual Dreamland. 

“ Ah, yes, monsieur,” Jean continued at last. “ It 
is only in the last year I have communed with my¬ 
self,” he struck his heart. “ Ze God of light which 
is here — but in ze last year, I have become philoso¬ 
pher and in another year you shall see a very different 
and bettair Jean LeFebre! Je vous assure” 

This failed to interest Jack; he was mentally turn¬ 
ing over a new leaf. 

“ No doubt you think it funny I am interested in 
you, mon ami, but,” Jean spread his arms, “ I am 
interested in all my fellow man, it is that which makes 
happiness and — ” and he hooked his forefinger on his 
nose and closed one eye, “ and also for happiness, it 
is necessary to have a sense of humor — I can see 
in your eyes, Monsieur Harrington, you have this, so 
all is well — naturally. ... For the moment I can 
see you are sad — but even in the most beautiful 
thing in the world, zere is always a leetle sadness — 
even this music, it is gay, but, au meme temps it is 
sad, n’est-ce pas! ” 

“ Oh, my God, that tune is wonderful.” Jack 
dropped his head to the table and sobbed as the 
smoke enveloped creatures danced their funny steps 
wiggling in each other’s arms, oblivious of everything 
but the savage rhythm. 

Jean LeFebre had the heart of a true Frenchman. 
All crimes and sorrows of passion were known, under¬ 
stood and therefore forgiven by him. Also, he had 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


255 

the tact to do the little “ Je ne sais quoi ” at the 
proper moment. So he realized it was well for his 
“ pauvre copain ” to weep like this, and he knew 
that in the silence which followed the storm, the 
flower of reason would be born. 

“ Take me back to New York town — New York 
town — New York town! ” — An idea occurred to 
Jean. For was it not also an American who played 
that tune on the piano — one who like Harrington 
was a — renegade, but a creature of intelligence and 
sensitiveness. 

He went over to the piano and touched the curly 
black head which bent over it. 

“ Monsieur! ” 

“ Qu’-est qui a —/ ” 

Jean balanced his cigarette, rather caused it to 
stick on his lower lip as he responded, “ Monsieur, I 
beg your pardon, you are an American, n’est-ce pas? ” 

“ Yes — what then! ” 

“ Allow me to congratulate you — your talent has 
given a poor Apache much pleasure, it gives me the 
jagged fascinating outline of your New York Har¬ 
bor— it gives me the bizarre but powerful spirit of 
your country.” 

“ Oh, rave on, you poor nut! ” 

But Jean LeFebre was not deceived. The voice 
was that of a gentleman, the hands, the contour of 
his face. 

“ Permit me,” said Jean as he offered a cigarette, 
“ and will you not join my table? ” He lifted the 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


256 

man to his side and was leading him as he talked. At 
the moment they reached the taboret Harrington 
wiped his face, looked up, and cringed — as he recog¬ 
nized the pianist — it was Jules. 

“ My God, Jules Blenner! ” gasped Jack. 

The three men sat down, and never was there a 
more appreciative audience for a dramatic meeting 
than old Jean. “ Ah, c’est extraordinaire! ” he would 
say occasionally. “ C’est jantastique y mon vieux! But 
what will you? C’est la vie . Life, my friends, it 
goes in cycles, you come right around to the same 
place after all. Some strange magnetism which at¬ 
tracts certain people through all their lives.” 

The three talked until morning. The whole truth 
and nothing but the truth was all repeated, and most 
of it, dear reader, you know. 

Jules was even more sullen than Harrington at the 
beginning of the conversation. 

“ I am through with all women, you understand, 
I’m off them for life! ” 

“ But,” ventured Jean, “ you have not even a leetle 
picture of your wife — a leetle one you carry just for 
nothing? ” 

Jules had. It was a snap-shot of Doreen and the 
baby he pulled out of his unclean and worn passport 
case. 

“ Oh,” said Jean, “ how charming. She is like a 
Bouchet picture — that is the type. Pardon, mon¬ 
sieur, but where — where are they — your wife and 
baby? ” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


2 57 

“ Oh, I don’t know — and care less!—and she 
doesn’t know where I am — that’s the situation.” 

“ Voilfl la maniere! ” said Jean. “ What ’ave you 
done against thees leetle woman that you hate life 
so?” 

“ That’s just it,” returned Jack Harrington, who 
knew the cause of ‘ the situation,’ and taking Jules’ 
wrist in his taut hand he continued, “ You’ve done 
enough against her without worrying her life out by 
disappearing off the map — think it over, Jules — I 
know Doreen will give you another chance — we’ll 
wire her tonight and you’ll devote your life to the 
woman whom you have betrayed — the mother of 
your son.” 

Here Jean interrupted: “ My friends, we will have 
another port — and if you will believe a good-for- 
naught old fellow like me, you will go to your Ameri¬ 
can post-office and there you shall find words of for¬ 
giveness waiting from ze leetle wife with such a 
tender naif face. Ha! we shall all go together. But 
not at once — a bientot” 

Having accepted Jean as their guide, philosopher 
and friend, they followed his advice. After breakfast 
in a creamery, they hailed a voiture and stopped at the 
American Express, something neither of them had had 
interest enough to do for months. 

Jules received a wire from his wife: 

“ Your father has passed away. I have forgiven 
you. Return soon as possible. Love from Baby. God 
bless you. 


Doreen.” 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


258 

Tears streamed down his face as he showed it to 
Jack. They were like two bedraggled children who 
had been lost. 

They decided to return and start life afresh. But 
money being scarce they could only afford steerage 
passage and rarely have two Americans been happier to 
turn their faces homeward. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


TWO YEARS LATER 

Y OU may be sure Dory changed the decorations of 
the interior of their smart town house so that all 
semblance of the unhappy man who had lived 
there was obliterated. She endeavored to change the 
gloomy grandeur of old Mr. Blenner to the atmosphere 
of the lovely mother whose portrait still hung in the 
library. She sought to invite the happiness which that 
sweet tragic woman had striven for. And above all 
she wanted to prevent her home — “ her trusty ship,” 
as she called it, from dashing on the rocks where so 
many “ city crafts ” seem to land. And when — as 
naturally happened at times, the tempestuous winds 
drove them into dangerous waters, it was by her direc¬ 
tion and control that they were brought into safe har¬ 
bor. 

Very cleverly, Jules’ studio was arranged on the top 
floor back. Much sun, air, space — but also padded 
doors and one trying ordeal of a poor musician’s wife 
was alleviated. Jules might practice one scale a thou¬ 
sand times, which is what he seemed to do when in¬ 
terested. But Dory only heard the beautiful result 
— when he played beautiful compositions for her 
amusement in the library. There the portrait hung in 


259 


26 o 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


the same place between the big windows and indeed 
seemed more alive each day — alive with the vibration 
of the master who had interpreted her sympathetic 
beauty. 

The whole room was built around the elegance and 
tonal qualities of that picture, a slender, distinguished 
woman in a crimson velvet gown standing against a 
tapestry. The walls were quiet and grey and had no 
other decoration except the book-cases that were very 
low and lined her room, and their beaded glass doors 
half concealed the many rows of richly bound books. 
One very dull deep grey rug nearly covered the floor, 
and the over-ornate mantel was replaced by a simple 
one which held a Spanish mirror framed in black and 
gold and two candelabras which were unspoiled by 
electric lights and shed the soft glow of wax candles. 
There was a deeply cushioned chair at each side of the 
fire covered in black satin, upon which a design was 
suggested with a thread of gold, and between them a 
table where were always a few fresh flowers. 

Jules had feared the place would be harrowing after 
his father’s death, but Dory had made it livable for the 
first time in many years, and especially this room, 
which she built around the portrait. For the first time 
Jules duly appreciated the magic of that picture. The 
sweet face of his beloved mother seemed to caress him 
at times. Then he played well, — for it was here he 
had wished his concert piano placed, and here in the 
afternoon he would sit before the fire and enjoy the 
tea served by his wife — a refreshment needed by both 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


261 


after a hard day’s work. For they both continued the 
work which each realized was an important part of 
life. Money permitted them to veil the sordid things 
and time only intensified their love and facility for 
their respective vocations. 

Jules had attained success. He had followed his 
wife’s advice and made his tour, and the money made 
from this and from Dory’s lecturing went to pay the 
debt to the “ financial backer.” 

The name of Jules Blenner was as well known and 
appreciated as that of such women as Doreen Blenner, 
whose work for the abolition of child labor and plea 
for vocational training is respected and honored now, 
and always will be. 

While, before the baby’s birth, Jules had treated his 
wife’s ideas of equal mental life with playful gallantry 
— she had always been conscious of a spirit of mock¬ 
ery which had now changed to that of respect and 
sometimes even interest. Although like most mu¬ 
sicians, Jules found his own productions of paramount 
importance, and found it extremely difficult to concen¬ 
trate at all on anybody else’s except as it directly con¬ 
cerned his — in her generosity Dory endeavored to lay 
it to his sickness, and indeed Jules was never very 
strong. 

Jules had grown old long before his time. Dissipa¬ 
tion had left its ugly mark upon his face. He had 
paid in many ways for his selfishness, but the greatest 
penalty of all was the loss of his wife’s trust and her 
heart’s love. For he had never really cared as deeply 


262 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


for her in the past as he did now. He knew quite well 
that the maternal tenderness she gave him and the 
nearness of her lovely body was not all he had once 
possessed. 

It made Dory quite sad too. Perhaps poor old Mrs. 
Sand was right, — she had said one day, “ After the 
chase is over and the girl of his dreams is captured, 
a man’s pleasure is to torture her until he is quite cer¬ 
tain that he has destroyed her. And when he has 
crushed his foot on the throat of his victim she is 
prized as the true mate of his life. And in nine cases 
out of ten not until then.” 

Doreen had cringed when Bella Sand said this. 
Looking back she could see the contemptuous curl of 
Bella’s mouth as she added ominously — “ sometimes 
the murdered singing bird is brought back to life by 
the love of another — or the gold.” 

But now a voice within whispered — 

“ Your voice is sweet though you may not sing — 
and you truly live because you have been brave in the 
face of death! ” 

One day when Felix Strange went to call on Dory, 
she noticed that he had lost much weight and seemed 
quite unlike the debonnair Felix of other days. 

“ Has anything happened? ” she asked, as she 
poured a cup of tea. “ You have not come to see us 
for two weeks — that is a long time.” 

“ Nothing really has happened, dear, but in an un¬ 
real way, many things. To be brief, Dory, I am pull¬ 
ing up stakes here, and in another month will be on my 


INVISIBLE WINGS 263 

way to a monastery in a certain isolated part of this 
world.” 

“ Felix ...” 

“ Listen, dear — I crave thought and solitude, I am 
forty-five years old. Whatever money and- mental 
power I may have are all to be at the disposal of some¬ 
thing very sacred. I do not have to explain to you — 

I mean ...” 

Doreen finished his sentence — “ A vocation,” she 
searched his soul with a sweet glance, then leaned over 
and took his hand in both of hers, “ I can see in your 
soul that a great peace has come.” 

“ Yes, Dory, I’m like Zanoni, after many experi¬ 
ences, I feel I must die in order to live again. Do you 
remember Viola in the story of Zanoni? ” 

“ I do.” 

“ You are my Viola,” he said, “ I am not making 
love to you, dear, but I do want you to know that the 
influence of your life has counted to me. In the midst 
of the most sordid darkness you have kept your eyes 
to the light. No, dear, don’t let a tear come now, 
though it makes them more lovely — surely you can¬ 
not be unhappy to feel that for one poor mortal you 
have been the north star.” 

“ I could weep, Felix, because I know how unworthy 
I am. I know — ” she stopped, she could not go on. 

He laughed and suddenly turned the conversation to 
something material as he lighted a cigarette. “ By 
the way, because you asked me, Fve just given Jack 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


264 

Harrington a job as editor of my magazine — he’s 
certainly down and out, poor chap. Don’t thank me, 
Dory — just as you have taught me to seek happiness, 
not in the heart of a human being, but in the heart of 
the universe, so you have taught me by your life to 
forgive my enemies, as I hope God will forgive me.” 

They drank their tea in silence and Dory sighed. 
“ Ah, Felix,” she said, “ circumstances are savage and 
thought is the chief which can control and direct 
them.” Then she laughed rather nervously and tried 
to be brave. “ You are a big chief, Felix, and I — I 
am proud of you.” But she could not control the tear 
which fell upon his hand as he rose to go. 

Kissing her hair softly he said, “ Good-bye — and 
God bless you, dear little North Star.” 

Jules’ nature had not changed, but when his irrita¬ 
bility upset his wife, he would go about regaining her 
favour like a coaxing child. Making sure she was 
somewhere within hearing, he played to her. The frail 
dark head brooding over the instrument always at¬ 
tracted the attention of Dory — the melody would 
throb through his body to hers even as he transmitted 
it to whole concert halls of people. His fingers touched 
the keys and the chord caused vague, strange emotions 
to live within her. Now, he played — and hummed 
a little, as the harmony broke upon the silence of that 
grey room, poignant chords that seemed to suffuse the 
eye of the quiet, watching portrait. Glancing at Dory 
a moment he mutely pleaded — then swayed over the 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


265 

piano as the song grew faster, the harmony more com¬ 
plex, more dramatic — the muscles in his face worked 
a trifle with this poignant melody as he reached the 
depths of the composition. Again his eyes sought hers 
a fleeting moment, and the melody grew tender as it 
drifted from his fingers, and she felt it quivering in 
her flesh as his fingers touched the keys of the last 
lines — softer — simpler the song — and at last, 
ended. 

In the clouds of Chopin’s sonorous sorrow he had 
placed her. Ah, verily, the poetic love which Chopin 
had so miraculously moulded was made to live again 
by such interpretative art as Jules’. 

At such times Dory was especially lovely to look 
upon and sometimes, and at this particular hour, she 
grew most wistful. 

“ Why do you sigh like that, Dory? ” 

“ Oh, nothing, dear; I didn’t know I sighed.” 

“ Yes — I fear you’ve been thinking again of — the 
past.” 

In times of illness — fatigue — or when he had been 
impatient — perhaps sarcastic — he knew that Dory 
mutely reminisced. Then once more he would be¬ 
come very penitent. “ The past does not exist,” he 
would reiterate — “ It never existed, Dory — only the 
present lives.” And overcome with the wonder of her 
he would demand — “ Do you love me, Dory? ” 

Her kind lips always answered in the affirmative and 
she would pat his head and smooth the dark hair back 
and perhaps lean her soft cheek against his handsome 


266 (INVISIBLE WINGS 

eyes. He always seemed to her — a child — a wilful 
boy who like most artists never grow up. 

True, the storm of passionate love for Jules had sub¬ 
sided but tenderness for him remained. She knew it 
was her tenderness and compassion for him that had 
mended the broken wings of her womanhood, and re- 
builded her nest. 

She loved him and she did not deem it necessary to 
add she was no longer in love with him — there is a 
difference! 

No matter how much his work was criticized abroad 
— and there are always hypercritical and jealous peo¬ 
ple— Jules Blenner was always sure of encourage¬ 
ment at home. 

And no matter how distressed he was about business 
affairs — and somehow he always seemed to live be¬ 
yond his means — he would lay his fears before Dory, 
no matter how weary with them she might be — and 
always he was comforted, and reassured. 

Even after one of his periodical tantrums — gener¬ 
ally over some trite household occurrence, when per¬ 
haps he would end by throwing himself face downward 
in tears on her couch — Dory would lie quietly by his 
side and soon her soft luxuriant hair would become 
a pillow for his head and in her warm strong arms he 
would become tranquil. And as he lay there she 
chided and petted him as one would a naughty child. 
Dory wondered what had become of “ la grande pas¬ 
sion ” she once possessed for him — how could it have 
existed? 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


267 

Yet she looked for him anxiously when he did not 
return in time for dinner — worried and prayed no 
harm would come to him when he left town for a con¬ 
cert. And when he returned she listened to his ac¬ 
count of his triumphs and felt proud. I must say, 
Jules’ accounts of his triumphs were always glowing 
but his wife accepted his egotism. She served his tea 
and toast herself — smoothed his head and tucked 
him in his bed even as she did their baby. 

But something within her was dead. A beautiful 
consciousness that had lived way within her had ceased 
to exist. His cruelty and infidelity had hurt — hurt! 
It had wounded her mortally! It had killed! But 
warm with life was the rosy baby who filled her arms 
in the morning, who patted her hair, and kissed her 
neck with his cool, moist curling lips and held out 
dimpled arms to his father — to Jules, who gathered 
him and the girl mother to himself, and together they 
cooed to their own, like robins leaning over a little 
nest, while pleasure played lights in Jules’ deep dark 
eyes as he luxuriated in the two beings most dear to 
him. 

In those moments Dory was very happy, for they 
were like a mirror in which she saw a reflection of the 
flame — ah, that was it! —a reflection of the flame! 
And after all it was Jules who had ignited it within 
her — true — it was he also who had crushed it out. 
But their child was the magic mirror. Something that 
was the essence of her only real happiness lived in 
that little lovely baby’s face, and she knew that as he 


268 


INVISIBLE WINGS 


developed, so would this happiness, no matter how far 
away he might rove when the path of manhood and 
personal endeavor took him from her — or how long 
he stayed away — always in her child’s eyes her heart 
would live, and without him she would have been hun¬ 
gry — always hungry — famished for the unknown. 

“ Shawn ” they named the child — Dory’s beloved 
grandmother’s surname — Shawn Blenner. The near¬ 
est his own baby lips came to it when delighted com¬ 
pany asked the roly-poly his name, was “ Dawn — 
Dawnie Blenner.” This with much gurgling and div¬ 
ing his head in Dory’s skirt. And Dawn is what his 
father and mother grew to call him. 

Doreen’s capacity for happiness became greater than 
her receptiveness for misery. 

Her capacity for love became dominant over all the 
pettiness of every-day life, and to her child she trans¬ 
ferred the absorbing interest which in another way had 
once belonged to Jules. 

At evening she softly ascends the stairs, and slowly 
opens a white door. The light of a twilight sky streams 
in upon her auburn hair, as she leans over a little bed. 
She is expected by her son. His drowsy voice lisps 
“ Mommie.” Ah, the fragrance of his breath as she 
kisses him good-night, the soft, warm little fingers that 
grasp hers so tightly and cling there like a bird’s wing 
to its breast. With shining eyes she gazes upon the 
curve of his cheek, upon the curl of his long lashes, on 
that tiny silken face. She tucks the covers in a trifle 
closer, very slowly and quietly, and presses her lips 


INVISIBLE WINGS 269 

long upon the dimpled hands and the golden hair, the 
cunning fat shoulder. He sighs and cuddles closer. 
Baby so little! So sweet! Smiling her good thoughts 
down upon him, she drapes the snuggling form with 
the tender love that vibrates through her veins — flows 
through her eyes — flows out from her woman’s body 
upon all the world — her passionate maternity. 















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